


Who We Were

by divisionten, QwertysHuman (FormerlyRandomLurker)



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, POV Alternating, Prequel, cannon typical abuse, not au but an alternate take, one half is ouma kokichi getting what he deserves, postquel, spoilers ahoy, the other half is K1-b0 getting what he deserves, you tell me if thats a good thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 09:15:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 40
Words: 124,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12362523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divisionten/pseuds/divisionten, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormerlyRandomLurker/pseuds/QwertysHuman
Summary: Two high schoolers try out for the 53rd season of Danganronpa... unfortunately, they get exactly what they wanted.(Cannon compliant, alternate perspective take on v3. Spoilers abound.).TV Tropes page here: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Fanfic/WhoWeWere





	1. Double Shot Espresso

**Author's Note:**

> This is your last chance to turn back if you haven't beaten v3.
> 
> Good?  
> Good.
> 
> A prequel to Danganronpa v3. This isn't a rewrite of the game in any way- but I wanted to see how far I could change the game without changing ANYTHING in the actual game.

Daisuke heard all the stories.

"The only reason we have world peace is because all the bad kids are taken away before they become bad adults."

"If they can't find enough people, they just start raiding orphanages and taking kids away. Overpopulation and all, yeah?"

Daisuke gulped.

"You know, just for being entered you get a ton of cash though- what, they give it to your families if you don't make it?"

"I've kind of always imagined I'd be an Ultimate Skydiver!"

Daisuke pulled at his hair, trying to concentrate on his comic book.

"Dude what kind of Ultimate skill is that? That's totally useless in the game, like even if you had to jump off a high building-

"CLASS!" The teacher at the front was stern. Daisuke shut his textbook loudly, hoping he didn't ruin his comic too. Getting American monthlies- the thin little individual books, was hard enough in downtown Kobe, he didn't want it damaged, too. At least he could hide it, unlike the people trying to read Jump in class- you could kill someone with one of those things.

And most of the teachers didn't care since the book was in English. Most.

Tanaka-sensei cared.

"Saito-kun!" she snapped. Daisuke's head shot straight up.

"If there's another X-Men comic in there I will be sending you /straight/ to the guidance office."

'It's Squirrel Girl,' Daisuke thought to himself.

He got sent anyway.

* * *

Daisuke took the bus down to the waterfront after class. It wasn't like he had any obligations or clubs. He'd just go back to the dorms that night, alone. He did need to press that crease out of the cover, but he could just shove the flimsy book between some kanji books.

He passed the Indian restaurant with the giant NAAN WA NAAAAAAAANI?! sign, the Bikkuri Donkey, before settling himself outside a Starbucks. A gaggle of what he assumed were college girls were talking about the Danganronpa 52: Rantaro's Revenge premiere over the sweetest Frappuchinos they had.

Daisuke hated coffee, the smell alone made his stomach churn. But they made really good green tea drinks- who was he kidding, they were basically milkshakes- and he could sit outside, away from the stink. So what if it was girly. Nobody there knew him, and if they did he didn't really have many friends at school, anyway. He went inside, attempting to hold his breath, pulling up the payment app on his phone. His weekly allowance had been added already, thankfully.

"Double espresso," the slender girl with a bob in front of him requested, a bit meekly. As anti-masculine his drink was, hers was just as unusual for what appeared to be a high school freshman.

"Welcome to Starbucks, may I help you?" the cashier asked, snapping Daisuke back to reality.

"TallFrapp,greenteacreampleaseforDaisuke," he breathed out, trying to minimize the stench of coffee in his nose.

"Oh, hello, 'suke-kun," the barista said, friendly. "Go sit outside, I'll bring it out."

"Thanksamillion," Daisuke muttered, running back outside to the pavilion.

There weren't any free tables. The other high schooler, in her uniform- was she wearing pants under her skirt...? was the only spot with a free seat.

"Sorry..." Daisuke started. "I can't stand coffee, can I sit with you? I just want to read my book."

"Think you came to the wrong place," she replied, flashing a grin. "Sure, but won't mine bother you?"

"Fresh air," Daisuke muttered. "Won't be so bad as inside. What are you doing with a double espresso anyway?"

"... job interview," she replied after a few moments, probably to organize her thoughts.

"That's just going to make you more jittery, won't it?"

"I'll... I'll deal. And it's okay if I don't get it..."

"Where's the interview?" One thing Daisuke knew he was amazing at was, somehow, some way, calming people down.

"The TV station," she replied, pointing a slender finger down the promenade to a squat white building with a dish on top.

Daisuke took another look at her. She was pretty, in a kind of androgynous sort of way. With her short hair, she probably wore wigs. Had he seen her on TV before?

"Come on, now I know you're faking. And I need your autograph before you get really famous," Daisuke replied with one of his trademark ear-to-ear grins.

"Hehe," she laughed quietly, but genuinely.

"Want me to come with you?" Daisuke finally asked, as one of the baristas came out with his plastic cup of green tea slush.

"That's.. really not..."

"I literally have nothing better to do today other than read comic books and slack off on doing my homework," he supplied. "And it's a story for class tomorrow at least. I mean, who gets to see a TV station from the inside? What's the job for, anyway?"

The girl downed her own drink in one deep swill and handed Daisuke a paper.

DANGANRONPA SEASON V3: OPEN CAST CALL.

* * *

"Okay what the hell- uh-"

"Ai. Ai Sato," she supplied almost mechanically.

"What the hell, Sato-san, do you actually want to die?"

"No! And I'm not even auditioning for me-" she started.

"What do you mean?" Daisuke questioned quietly.

"My older brother." It came out, almost as a whisper. "He's a massive Danganronpa fan. He... applied. I found out. I monitored the mail and took the envelope before he got home. But there's 10,000 yen just for going to the interview, so I'll just take his place. And sabotage it."

"You don't like Danganronpa either?"

"Fuck no," she replied with a small grin.

"Everyone in this world is crazy but us, huh?"

"Yknow what? I could use 10k. I'm coming with you. I could be your brother, right?"  
She laughed harder. A genuine, loud laugh.

"I... I was planning to do that," she said, pointing at her pants. "I stole one of his uniforms. We're basically the same size, if...l" she started, afraid to disclose something then realizing it was okay," if I wear my volleyball bra."

Daisuke turned five shades of red.

"Could you, um, I'm going to go back in the bathroom to change, could you tell me if I look close enough?"

"Look, nothing, you need to fix your speech patterns."

She laughed again, almost snorting. "Uh-uh. My brother was raised by my mom and me, and he's always been real sick. I saw his interview tape, I'm already as close as I can get.

I get why he wants to be on Danganronpa. He's got leukemia. He doesn't even know if he's going to make it to graduation, so he might as well earn us some prize money being a psychopath, he said. And he'd get to have some kind of amazing skill. At least for a while. I mean, I get it. I do. But that's not how I want to remember him, on some shitty faux reality TV show with some giant televised death. It wouldn't be him anymore. It's just..."

"Hollow. Mindless," Daisuke replied.

"If I somehow manage to pass this, I'll take it as a sign from somewhere that that's how my brothers going to go- I've already made peace with his death, and I think he has, too. If I fail, he'll never know he got picked for a studio interview and I can get us all some sushi or something. Win win. I guess."

"Yeah," Daisuke replied, mouth a bit dry.

"I'm going to change, can you watch my stuff?"

"Sure, Sa-"

"Ai-chan."

"Ai-chan," Daisuke repeated. The sound felt strange, somehow.

* * *

Ai emerged from the Starbucks about fifteen minutes later. Daisuke almost did a double take. She was in a boy's uniform, black suit jacket and tie, with a beat-up cap on her head, three lines on the side. If her brother was older, it probably signified he was a third-year student.

"He's not going to see graduation" rang in Daisuke's head. Ai's brother must be pretty close to dy-

Don't think about that, he reminded himself, gulping hard, looking at Ai again. She did, in fact, make a decently convincing teenage guy. Or at least androgynous.

"It's.. okay?" she asked Daisuke, snapping him out of his daydream. "I did a bit of makeup too but I just wanted to even out my skin tone..."

She'd pitched her voice a hair down. Just enough to shock Daisuke.

"Don't scare me like that," he yelped. "That's... a lot better than I expected, I wouldn't think twice passing you on the street. You... don't have a picture of him, do you?"

Ai flipped open her wallet- no, she must have nicked it off her brother too.  
Daisuke's jaw dropped.

"Okay. Yeah. You can pull that off."

Ai smirked a little. "I left my uniform with my friend, she'll drop it at my house after her shift," she said, pointing a finger back at Starbucks. "Since the security will probably check our bags. I don't want a skirt and," she paused for emphasis, " a _**BRA**_ in there."

Daisuke turned five shades of red as he tried to keep stride with the slightly taller 'boy' towards the station.

 


	2. The Audition

"I never asked your name," Ai said, as they walked briskly.

"Daisuke," Daisuke replied.

"No last name? You want me to just call you Daisuke, just like that?"

"It's Saito, but nobody's sure if that's right, it's just what they gave me. I'm a... I'm a ward of the state."

"Oh," Ai's keeping up the boy act. It's actually creeping out Daisuke a little.

Then again, she wasn't all that feminine before she changed clothes, was she? Why did it bother him so much? Because he was afraid of being seen as too girly himself? That didn't bother him, not really. Maybe his small stature did. He was always so small, and kind of frail. He was never good at gym, other than gymnastics, and he was barely 160cm. Even Ai was taller than him.

Maybe it was creeping him out because it suited her so well, while he just never felt quite right in his own skin.

"You... make a pretty good guy," Daisuke finally articulated.

"I kind of always wished I was one. I never feel right in my skin. I hate skirts," she finally admitted. "But once I'm out of high school I can wear what I want, so I deal. I don't want the other half of being a guy, please and thanks," she added with a laugh. "If my school just let the girls choose if they wanted pants I think I'd be a lot happier. And warmer."

"What's your brother's name?"

"Mamoru."

Protector.

They both laughed.

"I'm not sure if that's fitting him or you more," Daisuke hissed as they entered the station.

* * *

"Sato Mamoru," she said briskly at the station desk. "Project V?"

"Papers and ID, please," the receptionist replied sweetly, which Ai quickly provided.

"Thank you, Mamoru-kun, second door on the left. And you?"

"Uhhh, Saito Daisuke, moral support," Daisuke supplied.

"No invitation?"

"No, ma'am, but I have ID," he said, passing her his state ward card and school ID. He didn't know what she'd need.

"You're... an orphan?" she asked.

Daisuke gulped, remembering his classmates from that morning. "I'm on scholarship!"

He almost sounded like he was pleading for his life.

"Oh gosh, no, don't be scared, I was just surprised! Go on, go cheer on your friend, okay?" She shooed both of them off towards the right room.

The receptionist added Daisuke's name on her list, and reached out to give the producer a buzz.

Daisuke kept his head down, ticking away at a sim game on his cell phone. In the actual interview rooms they weren't allowed, but out in the main waiting area he could still use it. It was taking the nerves off. He plopped another classroom down on the sim, before Ai got buzzed inside.

"Phones and recording devices please," the Danganronpa receptionist requested. Both handed over their phones and got a quick scan for any hidden devices. Ai kept her face blank. They'd find her out for sure, Daisuke assumed, but after a quick pat of their arms, legs, and backs, they were shooed inside.

"You two auditioning together?" a rep asked once they were behind the door.

The decor changed the minute they'd done so. Decked out in logos, Monokuma plushies, tons of merch. Plushies of some of the past casts. Daisuke smirked at the chibi boy with an eyepatch and pinstripe suit, chibi scowl on full display. That one must have been from one of the games- an ancient Sony handheld signed by the creator sat next to that one.

They're laying on the pomp real thick, he thought.

"Oh, yes, NDAs for the both of you," the rep added, shoving clipboards in their hands. "Read and sign, please and thank you."

"I'm, I'm just moral support," Daisuke pleaded.

"Oh," came the reply from the rep. He looked Daisuke up and down quickly, almost sizing him up. "You still need to sign an NDA, though. Read it. It's for family, too. No talking about anything you see here, no blog posting, no nada. Capiche?"

"Wasn't planning on it," Daisuke replied, reading though at lightning speed. Standard legalese. Nothing here was binding about forcing him on the show, and so he signed it off.

Ai was still staring at it intently.

"It's exactly what the guy said... M-mamoru-kun," Daisuke assured her. "They just don't want show secrets leaving the room."

"Oh-okay then," she said, scribbling her brother's name in the line.

"I know you were a bit jittery in your interview tape, why don't you have a glass of water and sit down? The producer should be here soon."

"Yeah, sure...."

The producer was an over-makeupped, very put together woman in heels six centimeters too tall to be comfortable.

"Hello, Mamoru-kun, why are you here?" She asked, so sweet the words turned sour. Daisuke's stomach churned a little.

"Well, I... I love Danganronpa!" Ai said brightly, enthusiastically. Whatever happened to sabotaging her brother's interview? "It's one of the few things I can... I can look forward to."

"Oh? And if you could have an Ultimate power, which would you want?"

"Id love to be a detective. I know there's been quite a few, but, but, none of them have ever been a killer! Ultimate Detective that actually commits a crime! What a turnaround!"

Daisuke smirked. That was one of the few things the show never messed with and he knew it. The detectives, if there was one, was never a culprit. They might not survive, sure, but they were ALWAYS a good guy or girl, without fail. Along with the Lucky Student, there wasn't ever a murderer Detective. The fact that even Daisuke knew this spoke volumes.

That's what her plan was.

Smart.

Having a Detective in the show gave someone for the audience to safely root for. If they died it was sad, but for those who always wanted to cheer on a good guy, the lucky character or Detective was always, always safe.

"Daisuke-kun, I know you said you didn't want to interview, but what do you think?"

"Me?" He'd never been put on the spot.

"I'unno. I don't watch the show at all. All I hear is my classmates talking about it."

"What do you know about Danganronpa, then?" The producer dropped the sweetness. She didn't sound mean, she sounded... genuine. Curious.

It was surprising that it wasn't even the slightest bit malicious, and it dropped Daisuke's guard.

"My parents died overdosing on drugs, as far as I know. I have no family, I'm not liked in school. I love to learn. I'm fluent in three languages and I've earned myself a full ride to not only high school, but I already have a sponsor for college. Any idiot who throws their life away for your stupid show... like my parents threw away mine, for the addiction and the thrill... it pisses me off. They didn't work for it. They're literally handed an amazing skill and then die with it. It's stupid."

"I... see..." the producer replied. "Even if your friend got on, then, you wouldn't watch?"

"I'll honor my friends choices while they're alive. The minute that show starts, they're already dead."

"That's unnecessarily harsh."

"It's also true."

"There's always at least two people who survive. That's a 1-in-8 chance. Or higher."

"Or I could have a 1 in some other higher chance by not being on it, maybe I'll get hit by a bus. But I'm not signing up for a death game."

"The mastermind always survives. If you wanted to be with your friend. We'd like to extend an offer to Mamoru... if SHE accepts."

Ai put her head in her hands, and cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any guesses on who Daisuke is yet? Leave a comment! Hopefully it's okay so far? Feed back appreciated.


	3. Burn it All

"What do you mean, **_her_**?" Daisuke snapped.

"Come now, you think we didn't do our research? Mamoru is lucky if he can get out of bed twice a week. Being able to cheer on his sister from his bedside though? How wonderful would that be?" the woman’s voice was so pleasant it made Daisuke’s stomach churn.

"The Roman coliseums closed two millennia ago and you people are sick," Daisuke spat out, glaring at the woman in front of him.

"Neither of you are required. We only need sixteen people a season. It's easy enough to fill those slots. Think about it."

"Now that I know," Daisuke started, standing up to his full barely more than a meter and a half height, glaring down the woman in heels. "You know what? Fine. You want me so, so badly, I'm going to win your stupid game, and donate every last penny to leukemia research."

"Daisuke-kun," Ai said in shock. "Are you **_insane_**?"

"Not as much as they are, but sure, let’s go with that. Come on, we're out of here. If they want me for their stupid death parade they have a copy of my address." Daisuke held out a hand to help Ai out of her chair, glaring one more time over his shoulder at the woman.

“We’ll be in touch, Saito-kun,” she said with a nod.

“Sure, bitch,” he snapped back. “Money?’ he added.

“Both of you will receive compensation at the reception where they return your cellular phones,” she replied kindly.

“Okay, before I’m outta here, one thing- why the hell are you being so nice to me?’

‘Because the people who actually want to be on this show need mental health support,” she replied with a smile that actually didn't feel like a mask. “Your reaction is… well it’s refreshing for one, and I’m grateful someone else sees it that way. If you’re truly serious, Saito-kun, in taking the offer, I promise we’ll take good care of you. But understand this, until you actually sign on a contract with us, you’re free to leave at any time. No questions asked, and no pestering. Same with you, Sato-kun, or –chan, however you’d like to be referred. People usually just come here for the money or a free pass to kill. Neither of you want either.”

“You’re just saying that to butter me up.”

“I’m also saying there’s about 5,000 other teenagers who want to do this, and we only need 32 a year. I have an endless supply of names to call anytime I wanted.”

“Leave my friend out of this,” Daisuke said simply. “But fine. I’m in.”

“S… so am I…” Ai finally piped up.

“Ah-Ai-chan! But what will your mom do? Especially if…” Daisuke looked at his feet.  
“Probably get drunk again. Let me give my brother something to look forward to, for once? I live with the woman, I don’t really care about her.”

“At… at least you have a mother to hate,” Daisuke muttered, as the two of them exited the interview room. Ai snatched up a Monokuma plush off the TAKE ME display table for her brother.

Daisuke took the previous season’s download code on a floppy piece of cardboard.

* * *

 

Daisuke spent the entire bus back to the dorms fiddling with the crisp 10,000 yen note in his pocket, biting his lip and thinking about the walk back to the bus stop.

When they gotten out of the studio, Ai had grabbed him firmly by the shoulders. “You’re an idiot,” she hissed.

“Sums it up, yeah,” he replied.

“You met me like two hours ago and now you’re planning on dying for me?’

“Living for your brother but, basically, yeah.”

“ ** _Why_**?”

“Because you’re the first person who’s actually given a shit about me in the past year, other than that barista who brought me my drink while we were sitting at the waterfront. I hate coffee, and she, and those Frappuchinos and the comics from that shop in the shopping arcade are literally my life. I figure, if I can destroy this stupid thing that everyone likes, that keeps idiots glued to the TV, I’ll’ve actually done something productive for once.”

“…you’re weird, Daisuke-kun.”  
“S’what I’ve been told. Now you go back to your brother and alcoholic mother and get good grades and escape your life.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I was serious in there too. I’ll give my brother something to cheer for, and come back for him... pulling **_you_** , **_short stack_** , by the ear, if necessary. If you’re hell bent on this, then you’re going to be surviving. And I’ll make sure of that.”

“Yes, **_Mom_**.”

Ai squeezed the Monokuma plushie by the head at Daisuke’s face, revealing a plastic set of fangs and a horribly cutesy ‘UPUPUPUPU’ sound.  
Two middle schoolers gawk and run over to Ai asking where she got it. She blushed a little, and snapped into a more masculine persona. Daisuke took the opportunity to jet, giving Ai a lopsided backwards salute and an ear-to-ear grin.

* * *

 

Daisuke got off one stop early, and raided the FamilyMart for a takeaway cup of oden and a hot tea, sliding over his crisp new bill for change. Handed back a wad of a 5,000, three 1,000’s and a jingle of coins, he felt better. He wanted that bill out of his hands as soon as possible. He’d heard rumors that Danganronpa was government funded- it **_had_** to be approved at least, to go on for over almost two decades at three seasons a year.

Monokuma’s face, and that of a boy with greenish-blonde hair was on one of the checkout tabloids, promoting the new season.

Danganronpa was older than Daisuke, he realized- it was going to be near-impossible to get it shut down, from the inside or otherwise.

* * *

 “Yo, DanRo is about to start,” one of his dorm mates shouted. “Anyone wanna watch, it’s going up in the kitchen, and it’s last call for convenience store runs before curfew!”

Saito swung his bag of dinner up in front of the upperclassman’s face. “I can eat in my room then, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Normally, no food in the bedrooms, but on Danganronpa nights, if you didn’t want to watch and eat you could eat in your room. Especially on body discovery nights- which apparently was what they were announcing.

“You going to catch up with it later, Daikon?” another dorm-mate asked, as he walked against the tide of students heading towards the kitchen.

“Nah, I’m… actually going to marathon last season.” Daisuke pulled the cardboard redemption code out of his school jacket pocket and flashed it.

And then he was swarmed.

“Dude! Where the hell did you get that, those are super rare.”

“Wait, whoa, look at the back, Amani signed it! Did you meet him before the season started?”

“Includes special forward from Amani Rantaro…” another one read out, almost in shock. “Duuuuude, whose dick did you suck for this?”

Daisuke scowled. “One of my friends works at the station. Some kind of promotional crap. I’m just going to watch it so I can… uh… talk with her about it…”

“Oh so I Hate DanRo Daisuke wants to watch it to impress a giiiiiirl.”

“Hope she’s hot.”

“Did she tell you who her favorite Ultimate was? If you like the wrong person or ship the wrong couple, girls will turn on you in an instant man,” one of the seniors said, slapping him hard enough in the back to make him cough.

“Season 51? Def tell her Mayuri is best girl, yeah?”

Five guys burst out laughing, and Daisuke turned bright red.

“I’ll… make that decision myself...” he muttered.

* * *

 Daisuke flipped open his computer, punched in the redemption code, and was shuttled to a streaming site. Flicking past the special features, and welcome message from the blondish-green haired kid, Daisuke propped open a notepad and pen, and his paper takeaway bowl of oden to start taking notes.

* * *

He’d do his damndest to burn this thing to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying! I'd love to hear from you as I go!


	4. Mayuri Dies First: REACT VID SUPER SHOCKING

Mayuri-chan died first.

Daisuke almost puked in his trashcan, but he quickly understood why this show was so dang popular.

The rawness (although how much of that is the mind wipe they give the contestants? He’s heard wildly conflicting reports), the genuine fear. Once he’s in that show, he won’t remember it is one- so he needs to find a means of hiding as many clues on him as possible.

Maybe tattoos? How thorough do they check out participants?

Could he get in contact with one of the survivors, maybe? Find out firsthand what that’s like? Did they strip your whole personality away, or just give you some kind of superpowered skill but left the rest of you as is?

He left the stream running in the background, the pulsing debate music while the group were arguing over what the murder weapon actually was, while he pulled up the wiki on his phone, jiggling the notepad at his knee.

Who survived? What did people know of them before? What were they doing now?

The first five Danganronpa were video games and anime, then three scripted live action dramas. It wasn’t until Season Nine where they made a swap over to their current format, somewhere half between a scripted show (in so much as the participants were given actual super skills via memory implants) and half reality (because once their ‘gift’ was given to them, it didn’t really seem like the staff interfered). There were too many places where things could have been done as multiple takes, but weren’t. Monokuma itself was the staff avatar, but it was required to follow the rules set out. No tampering with evidence, no committing murder itself…

Daisuke could see evidences of editing and such, of course, but he made a note it was likely that, beyond their initial setup, and the clear rules the game’s creators had to follow, they wouldn’t intervene at all. Post production was fair game, though, but that seemed more for the sake of making the show exciting, not actually affecting the game itself.

So that was one piece down. The other one was back to his list of survivors. There were two types- true survivors and sacrifices.

The latter were people like Rantaro. If they got to the end of the game and discovered that season’s mastermind, but chose to let them live, someone was ‘sacrificed’ and shuffled back into the following season. Their personalities seemed to remain intact, putting more stock in the theory that the participants were just themselves with only a skill given to them, but they had their Ultimate skill wiped from their minds in exchange for “survivor perks” like a small amount of knowledge of the game, and area maps with hidden areas marked.

So Rantaro let himself be scarified in Season 51 to keep someone else alive, and had been shuffled back into the current season. He’d have to steal someone’s hard drive later to take a look at it.

But that meant the rest of the people that survived 51- including that mastermind- were true survivors. They were free. Daisuke paused the current episode and jumped to the final one in the season, near the end. There were five people who walked out, and immediately swarmed by reporters. Probably Danganronpa staff and not actual reporters, but still. If he could corner one of those people, he’d learn more.

Immediately, he started scanning the wiki for names and faces, tying them back to anything. News reports, whatever. The season had ended only two months ago, so figuring out what they did afterwards should have been easy, right?

But that was strange.

Daisuke frowned. He grabbed a photograph of one of the girls who’d survived. The Ultimate Diver. Edogawa Yurie. No news articles beyond show promotional stuff. No swim meets afterward (he wasn’t expecting before, of course). He threw her face into some online photo matching software that he hadn’t- certainly hadn’t!- previously used to try and identify if he had any living relatives or siblings. The only positive results were screen caps from the show itself.

Daisuke widened the acceptable tolerance. And there her face was- much much different than in the show. Her eyes were dark brown, not green, her hair a different color, cut, and style. She had a harsh patch of rosacea under one eye, and a pretty massive scar under the other- probably from the rosacea as well, and glasses to boot. Daisuke almost instinctually pushed his own higher up the bridge of his nose.

That was a /lot/ of makeup and styling. He read the name underneath. Uchida Momo.

Currently a freshman at… Shoin Josei Daigaku, the woman’s university up the hill, barely a 30 yen bus ride away. It was almost **_too_** easy. He was already halfway to booking a night bus or even shinkansen up to Tokyo if needed.

* * *

 Momo liked baking, and was a member of Shoin’s culinary club. So with a bribe in hand in the form of a gift certificate to the local international grocer’s, Daisuke took the bus out to the small campus immediately after classes the next day.

Now, to find the kitchen laboratories.

Daisuke’s mouth watered the minute he’d stepped in the building, his sweet tooth leading the way as he poked his head into several kitchen classrooms, running out embarrassed when one was actually being used for a late afternoon course.

“Kid, what are you doing in here?” the teacher shouted.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he cried back. His small stature and baby face could be useful for once. “My biiiig sis left her bento at home, and I know she has cooking club. I gotta find her pleeeeeaseeee?” He put on his biggest smile and tried to act as cute as possible, secretly cursing at the gods of puberty to just get over themselves already and give him a damn growth spurt.

“Second floor, room 207,” the teacher replied, rolling her eyes. “And don’t slam the door when you close it.”

“Yes’m,” Daisuke replied, as he shut the classroom door and hurried up the stairs.

* * *

“…hi.” Momo was alone, sweeping the floor. The tabletops were wet- likely freshly scrubbed, and Daisuke assumed the club had just finished for the afternoon. His timing couldn’t have been better.

“Hi,” Daisuke squeaked back, still a bit distracted by the smell of chestnut tarts. ‘Do you… want a hand?”

“You’re… I would have thought you a middle schooler, but I know that uniform. Fifteen?”

“S-sixteen, actually,” Daisuke looked at the floor. Momo commanded a lot more presence than he thought. “Uh, I’m here for…”

“You’re a complete stranger who figured out I’d be in this club,” she cut in. “which means you’re a stalker, and stalking me for one of two reasons. Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t have you kicked out right now, or I’m calling for backup.”

 ** _She didn’t say teacher or police. That was a very specific set of words_** , Daisuke realized.

“I was scouted for Season 53. I don't have much in the way of proof but I do have this,” he cried quickly, bowing and holding out the now-bent cardboard redemption code sheet.

Momo froze and dropped the broom, almost looking like a deer in headlighs for a split second, then immediately ran to Daisuke and scooped him in for a hug.

* * *

“eep!” Daisuke cried a moment later.

“Congratulations!” she said, smiling, pulling away. “Oh, I’m sorry, I startled you. I was just wondering when they’d announce the next group.”

That… was not what he expected from someone who saw ten of their ‘classmates’ die, and sent another back into the meat grinder.

“Are you… some kind of sadist?!’ Daisuke cried as he snapped back a little. “I… uh… I mean, I’m sorry, its just…”

Daisuke was immediately reminded of what the producer had said about show candidates needing mental health support and bit back his words.

“No, its fine. But remember I’m under an NDA, so I can’t chat too much about it. I will say... it’s life changing, at the very least. I have a lot more respect for life than I did before.”

“Can I… ask a few questions?’ Daisuke said, pulling up a chair.

“You can, but I can’t promise I can answer,” she replied. “Pastry and milk?” she added, pulling out a rack of chestnut tarts.

“Shit, I was waiting for you to ask.”

* * *

“Do… you get to keep your ultimate skill?” Daisuke asked, about to pull out his notepad, before thinking better of it. He’d write everything down later, and commit what he could to memory now.

“Anyone who survives can choose to keep it, and accept any job offers based on that skill. They can also have it wiped, if they prefer.”

“Who’d want to forget their Ultimate skill? Sounds like a free meal ticket, even with the prize money.”

“Well, some people don’t want it for whatever reason. It’s usually not the skill itself that's the problem, it's the memories associated with it. If I’d gotten the Ultimate Forensic Scientist I probably would have had that wiped out, too… She and I actually decided to switch skills. I throw up from the smell of blood, and smell is the only memory type they can’t tamper with. Maybe someday, but not now. So, our characters got switched before the show.”

Daisuke mulled everything in his mind. The word choices, everything.

“How much of you is... you?”

“Depends on the character or personality they want, really. The more different a character they want, the less of ‘you’ there is. You stop getting exposed to their memory lights long enough that ‘you’ resurface- if they do a lot of rearranging upstairs and after the show is over- took me a few days. And you can have the personality they make cleaned out if you don’t want it afterwards, too. I chose to remember, so Yurie is kind of like… I dunno, a conscience? Thinking how she would think has caught me from doing a lot of stupid stuff, recently. Oh, and you can ask to have those things removed independently from one another, most of the time. I mean, if you got Ultimate Serial Killer or something I guess your skill and personality would be intertwined. If you get something that’s actually dangerous to society, you don’t get a choice, they’ll clear it out after whether you want it or not.”

Daisuke remembered one of the survivors in 51 was the Ultimate Bomb Maker, and wondered if that was considered too dangerous to keep.

“What do you remember during the game?”

“You don’t know it is one, unless you’re the designated Mastermind, but if you’re **_that_** you think you’re a Danganronpa employee, so its fake either way. They give you some sort of fake kidnapped scenario, and will write in friends or family members, but those are always fake. Your own real relatives and friends are suppressed. It’s a lot easier to get rid of the fake persona later if you don’t want it.”

“What if you don’t want to remember the game? Like at all?” Daisuke added, tilting his head.

“It’s always an offer but… I don’t think many take it. You can ask to just have everything wiped from just before the show starts, that you ‘rejected the offer and just hung out in the green room’. Survivors still keep their winnings, and its not going to stop you from, say, watching the show later, since you at least know you were on it. It’s a lot different from the inside, though, so I can see why someone might want that choice. But none of us did, and I don’t think anyone from the last few seasons did, either.”

“Why not?”

“I’d… rather not say.”

**_Did Momo and the other survivors not want to forget their dead friends?_ **

“So, Ultimate Diver, huh?”

“Yeah, I still wanted to go to college, but I have an offer to work on a diving show when I get out. We’re going to the Mariana Trench. It’s actually really cool, just suddenly knowing some skill you didn’t before- I mean, if you get something useful at least.” Momo smiled from that. “But I won’t wear that persona- it’s me, my personality. I’m just a really really good diver now. They won’t even mention I was on Danganronpa- and in some ways, it was me, yeah, but Yurie was on the show, not me.”

“Do you… miss the other contestants?”

“I’m still in touch with a few.”

“I mean the ones that died.”

“I’d… rather not say.”

Daisuke nodded, and quietly munched on his second tart.

“Do you… get any say in what they make for you?”

“You can veto, but that’s it. Like… if you don’t want to be naked, or be really sexual, or if you have an objection to a major personality quirk or your skill. You get to veto three times and then its settled, if you’ve already signed your contract. If you haven’t you can walk away then and there and they’ll pull in a sub.”

“So you know what they’ll make for you before you go on the show?”

“Oh yeah, you’ll get a whole tour of the set before hand, even the hidden areas. You’ll go to wardrobe, hear your character’s concept, a lot of stuff. And then if you’re good to go, they’ll run a mock trial or two, get you all in costume, promotional photos, whatever. You’ll get a day or two to mentally prepare and sleep at the grounds. And then a few days of memory wipes. They make it look pretty quick on the show, but that’s ‘cause we were all primed before. It can take almost a week to put in the skills and personalities. And then they’ll overwrite how you got there with your kidnapping story, hide, you all wake up, and the cameras start rolling. You’ll be a little confused on the first few wipes, and they’ll start with small stuff. Like,” she stopped for a moment thinking. “We had an Ultimate Ukiyo-e painter. The first few wipes, she just learned how to get into her costume.” Daisuke nodded. It was a Heian period kimono, and it looked complex to wear.

“She hadn’t even gotten her personality yet, she just… knew how to tie like a million different kimono knots. She told me it felt like her arms were just going through the motions on her own.” Momo reflexively touched her own cheek. Daisuke wondered if she did the extreme makeup every day herself for the show. She would have had to.

“And wipe, it's a bit of a misnomer. They can’t actually make you forget anything. It’s light that stimulates the brain into making new memories. They’re just more powerful from exposure. So you get enough new stuff that the old stuff… its in there but your brain will supply you with the new, if you think on something. Like, you won’t forget your actual family. But if they give you a new family backstory, that's just what will come to mind if you think about them. If you realize you have other mem… er, NDA, never mind.”

“So they show you the grounds and all the hidden rooms in advance then, why? Do they actually want some of the cast to… remember? Since you don’t really forget that stuff in the first place?”

“I’ve signed an NDA…” Momo said sharply, standing up and stretching as she put away things back in the refrigerator. “But I might be able to say you’re not wrong, and leave it at that.”

“Thanks, erm… Uchida-san. I’m Daisuke, by the way. Saito Daisuke.”

“I’ll cheer you on, then, Daisuke-kun- if, if you’re still going to do it.”

“Planning on it,” Diasuke replied, flashing a grin, and immediately thinking about picking up a book on long term memory exercises before returning to the dorms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eeee thank you all for the comments!  
> this chapter was a little too... backstory heavy but you've probably noticed thats more my style.  
> and yes... you're all correct, Daisuke will become Ouma. :)  
> I was originally planning on writing Ai as Kaede, in the early draft of this story, but she's going to have a more interesting role than that...


	5. Saito Daisuke: Sleeper Agent Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: brief mention of sexual assault.

* * *

Daisuke went over what he knew so far.

It wasn’t that they’d erase memories. More like suppress them with newer ones. And they’d give them some information about the area first, so he’d need a way to force himself to remember- even more so that he’d need to force himself to remember that he had to force himself to remember.

His brain hurt thinking about it.

He also knew memories about smells were left unaffected- which made a lot of sense, actually, given that smell and memory were so closely intertwined. So, if he tried to force himself to remember things to certain smells, he’d be able to use that during the game.

But… why?

So, he’d be able to pull his own self out during the game- maybe, possibly, he wasn’t even the slightest bit sure that would even work- but then what? He’d have to do something about the situation, convince the other participants…

Convince them to be boring.

What made Danganronpa so appealing to so many people was the thrill. The murders, the guessing, everything.

Take that away… convince these ultimate personalities that killing wasn’t worth it… sit in a circle and sing kumbaya or whatever-

Ad revenue goes, so does the audience.

Daisuke chuckled a bit to himself as he rearranged the comics on his shelf, listening to another episode of season 51 in the background, pulling out every issue of Captain America he could remember that involved brainwashing, before putting them back.

The smell of fresh books was something he could use, but it was too weak, and too... everywhere. He wanted to be able to trigger it on his own, like... like a reverse sleeper agent?

His eyes drifted to his desk, to a small shrine. A single photograph of his parents, carrying a bundle that would become the way-too-short kid he was today.

And the incense burner next to it.

Funeral incense. The smell is cloying, distinct, and most importantly, controllable. Nobody’s just going to be carrying it around unless there’s an Ultimate Monk or something, and he could ask if he could keep lighting it to honor his parents when they went over his character.

It was worth a shot, at least.

He swallowed, pulled out a stick from his drawer, and set it on the burner. It was one of those electric ones, since open flame wasn't allowed in the dorms outside the kitchen and patio. He hadn't even bought it himself, the school did. For "his sake".

He flicked it on and sat on his bed, inhaling deeply.

My name is Saito Daisuke.

I am sixteen years old.

I go to Ward Seven Public High School.

I am a normal, ordinary kid.

My name is Saito Daisuke

I am sixteen years old...

* * *

Two weeks into his routines, where he added the smell of freshly baked cookies to remind him of the plot of an issue of Rocket Raccoon, just for the hell of it, he got a buzz on his cell from Team Danganronpa.

He gulped and hit "accept".

"H-hello?"

"Saito-kun? This is Arakawa, the producer from Danganronpa?"

Oh. The woman in heels. He never did get her name.

"Did you... need something?"

"Yes, actually. If you're still interested in participating I need to set up an interview for waivers, mental health exam, and so on."

She didn't sound as sickly sweet this time around, just... genuine. Like a mom.

Daisuke frowned, breathing out a sigh. He wasn't backing down now, he supposed.

"I'm still interested. Do you really want someone who hates your show on it, though?"

"It's precisely because you think it's a bad idea we'd love to have you."

"Just... can I make a request?"

"Yes? We'll go over the basics of what you will and won't allow during the interview, though."

Ah, so Momo was spot on about vetoing character traits. It's not that he didn't believe her- he did, and had been back almost every day just to chat with her (and eat desserts, lots of desserts). He just... didn't trust Team Danganronpa to necessarily keep the same rules season after season.

"Well, I know you offered for me to be the mastermind, and... I'd prefer not to, actually."

Pause.

"I'm... surprised."

"If it's okay, I'd rather just be one of the regular participants."

"That actually makes it a little easier for us. Two of the girls came forward and both said they'd be willing to take that role. But we can talk more then. I already have two days blocked out next week to go down to Nara and Oosaka to see a contestant each, would you be able to come by the station on Saturday?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Fantastic. Sato-chan already said yes as well. We'll feed you, just bring yourself, your student ID, and your prefecture ID. It'll probably take all day."

So Ai was also going through with this. Was she... was she one of the girls that expressed interest in being the mastermind...?! Daisuke gulped down a bit of bile.

"Sure," he finally articulated. "Anything else?"

"For now, no. But don't hesitate to call me if you need something, Saito-kun. I'm happy to answer any questions you have."

"I... don't have anything at the moment..." he replied. He didn't need to tell her he was asking Momo questions a mile a minute, and already on his second notebook's worth of notes. "I'm just going to be overwritten during the show, right? So it doesn't matter that much, anyway."

Daisuke could almost see Arakawa-san frowning. "I... suppose that's true. But it doesn't quite work that way. We can't remove memories, though that's how the show presents it. We only add."

"Why even go through the trouble? Why not just, I'unno, use people how they are? What is this, psyche research or something?"

A pause on the other end of the line. "Actually, yes. It is."

"I was wondering how it could survive so long."

"I'll explain more on Saturday. No need to dress formally," she said, slightly exasperated. "930 sharp, if you please."

"Yes'm," Daisuke replied, before hanging up, staring down at the phone in his hands.

What had he gotten himself into again?

* * *

"Thanks again for the gift card," Momo said, pulling a whole pumpkin pie from the oven. Daisuke's stomach rumbled.

"Watch what you're eating, Daisuke-kun. You're going to get fat before you grow taller at this rate."

"Aw, my stomach is a bottomless pit though. I'm fiiiiine."

"And now we let it cool. For thirty whole minutes. No touching," she chided.

"Yes mooooom," Daisuke grinned back.

"I'm only two years older than you, short stack. What did you come to pick my brain about today, anyway?"

"All of Danganronpa is some kind of psyche experiment, isn't it."

It wasn't a question.

"I've, I've signed an..."

"Yeah, I know you have. I already talked to Arukawa about it, the producer lady. She already said yes, here."

Daisuke pulled out his phone and replayed the clip from his conversation with Arukawa, which he'd recorded.

"And that's why they take away cell phones during interviews and the show," Momo replied. "Because there's only a few people they take. People with broken homes, people without parents, people with severe psychological issues, and the terminally ill, and one or two 'normals' as controls."

"Why though? Are they trying to, what, make sleeper agents? A bunch of super spies or assassins?"

"Actually, that's what I thought, but no. And it's not mass hypnosis either. The cost of doing it even to like 30-50 people a year is immense, it takes time, it fades off if you're not repeatedly exposed to it, and... well you'll see, but until you've been primed a tooon of times they can't just shine the light in your face and suddenly you're assassinating prime ministers."

Momo put her hands on her hips and paced. "Daisuke-kun, they're studying trauma therapy. I will guarantee you that one of the people in your group, if not more, is a rape survivor."

"Wait, what? How..."

"Because I was. I was pretty close to suicide, too. That's why I signed on. If I was going to kill myself, I was going to do it on national television so the person who did it would see me. And then they gave me Yurie-chan."

"But why... why the game? Why the killing?"

Momo bit her lip, trying hard to figure out what to say. "Two reasons, but these are just guesses. One, its expensive as hell to maintain this. So the merch, the show, it's all there to supplement that. But two..."

Momo frowned.

"I don't think it would have worked if there wasn't the fear of death put in us. The distrust. Hope always wins out in the end, Daisuke."

She paused, jamming a toothpick into the center of the pie. "It takes a good murder to really bring strangers together."

* * *

Daisuke walked back home instead of taking the bus, milling it over. Did the staff think he was broken somehow, or was he a control subject? Ai's brother hit two of the checkmarks Momo had mentioned, but they seemed to want her instead.

Daisuke entered the dorms, deep in thought and contemplating about the very nature of Danganronpa itself.

Human trials?

He guessed they'd go over that before contracts and see if people were actually still willing to go through with the show.

Was that any different than taking an experimental drug with potentially fatal side effects?

Was the morality of all this going to change his opinion?

And why did it smell like stale coffee in the foyer? Daisuke gagged and reminded himself to light his incense.

Daisuke gagged and reminded himself to light his incense.

He grinned and made a mental note to add coffee memories in his list of things to do.

* * *

Daisuke zipped up his jacket and took the bus directly to the station. About halfway there, a bob-headed girl stepped on.

Ai! Daisuke hadn't actually talked to her since the interview, despite writing long text messages and deleting them time and again. She saw Daisuke, and ducked down into a spot on the opposite corner of the bus.

Once the bus stopped at the next red light, Daisuke bowed his head, embarrassed, and tried to move closer.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Um.. can I?"

"You don't.. hate me?"

"Why would I?" Daisuke asked, taking it as an invitation to sit with her. His phone dinged and it was a message from Ai. Probably because the others on the bus were staring.

'haven't texted u once," she typed.

'I haven't either? I keep writing stuff and...'

'...'

'...'

'keep writing dtuff and not sending it' Ai cut in

'stuff, it's stuff, get your autocorrect fixed,' Daisuke laughed out loud a bit and then quickly covered his hand with his mouth, typing faster than he realized what he was doing. 'also ur cute yellow looks good on u'

Oops.

'"You're"' she corrected and they both laughed quietly, as if the last two weeks of silence hadn't happened.

'thx mom but its chatspeak duh who has time for apostrophes'

'well YOU'RE cute too you know'

Daisuke looked up from his phone to see Ai blushing a little.

'r u asking me on a date because I made absolutely no plans for today nope none not a thing of spending it all with u in a tiny room for a psyche evaluation and signing paperwork together'

'oh man a psyche eval sounds like a perfect date let's do it'

'will there be coffee'

'no'

'good is date then'

The bus rumbled around a corner, and Daisuke, with a grin, reached over Ai to pull the cable to request the next stop.

Maybe things would be okay. What's a 33% chance of survival, anyway?

There was coffee.

Daisuke gagged and winced, and the carafe and burner were quickly removed.

"Sorry," Arukawa said apologetically. "Anyway. Phones and recording devices go to the desk, yes we will check you two for anything else."

Ai twirled around for the security guard, her loose yellow camisole swishing over her chinos as they checked to make sure she wasn't carrying anything else that could record. Daisuke stripped off his jacket and let them prod while he looked over his shoulder at Ai.

Yeah. She was super cute.

* * *

"So, Saito-kun is one heck of a smart cookie," Arukawa said, having them both sit down at her desk. "So now I'll explain in detail. "Yes, Danganronpa is a front, of sorts. It really is the show you see, but it's also a research ground into topics of memory, perception, and so on. We've been using it for the last 17 years to study human conditions. The fact that it's a show helps supplement the cost of research."

Ai looked a bit surprised. "So it's... fake?"

"Erm, that's precisely the point. We are studying the ability to alter perception in various ways. The skills and personalities you'd be given reflect something we are looking to study. Because part of the nature of psychology research requires us to deceive the participants- otherwise you might react in ways knowing you're watched- we can really only tell you if you survive what it was we were actually researching that season."

"So those deaths... still happen."

"As any medical research or procedure there's a possibility of complications. We just know exactly what percentage that might be, because at that point we will directly intervene."

"There are always at least two survivors," Daisuke said, mulling what Arukawa explained. "So there's at worst, a 75% chance of death."

"Precisely. Which is why I won't let anyone on who doesn't fully comprehend these risks."

"And that's why you take terminally ill people if they're good enough to be on the show. They're going to die anyway," Daisuke grinned, pulling his arms up behind his head, a bit smug. "So, doc, what do I got?"

"Someone's been really doing their research," Arukawa said. "But no, neither of you have anything debilitating, that we know of. You'll both have physicals should you wish to proceed."

"Then... why me?" Ai asked.

"Well, we saw your brother's interview and considered him, but his health is not good enough, even if he's in a wheelchair. When you came to take his place, we were impressed by your resolve. And not everyone in the group is ill. We do need a few people to act as control."

"And I'm an orphan, so you wanted me."

"No, we want you for exactly why you walked in here knowing what we are. You planned on sabotaging this operation. The memory overwrites actually have to be wanted by the participant. Until you've gotten enough of them, it's extremely easy to ignore them. We want to see if you can resist this."

Arukawa folded her hand in front of her. "I've been trying to prove to the government for years that our tech is for therapeutic use only. I'm a doctor. The military wants this for... reasons. Especially since the way we have funding in the first place isn't exactly the most pleasant. I'd like to prove to them once and for all that I can take even a child under, and still they can recognize who they are."

"Saito-kun I want you on this show so you can do that. And I think you can."

"I... I think I can manage," Daisuke squeaked out, not letting on he was planning on doing that from the start. Might as well milk it. "But you'd better make my game show persona really cool to compensate. I want like, a spy chopper and a secret lab and stuff."

"I think that can be arranged."


	6. Lord of the Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tend to write from my cell phone so this chapter probably has some formatting issues.  
> If you notice the speed I'm writing... it's because this is my NaNoWriMo entry! But because I'll be going back home to Japan at the latter half of November, I started and (plan to) end two weeks early. If the story isn't done by then, I will finish it nice things are settled.  
> It'll be good to go back. I lost my home after the Tohoku earthquake, moved to California, then New Jersey, then PA.. its been a weird six years.

"Wait. You're serious, aren't you, I was just being facetious," Daisuke replied.

"As long as it doesn't interferes with what we are testing, we want the participants as comfortable as possible. Private bedrooms, game room, library, and custom labs for every participant are basically standard, plus some other facilities as we see fit. They're already designing the pool for your set. Are the two of you interested? Saito-kun, you understand you're probably going to have your memory scrambled more than most, if you do."

"I understand, and I accept," Daisuke said. "Just give me the paperwork."

"You're a minor, so anything either of you sign today isn't binding without parental consent or notary."

"Well I don't have the former, so I don't need any permission correct?"

"If a notary is fine, I'm accepting as well," Ai said. "I need to keep an eye on him, at least."

Arukawa laughed, and Daisuke blushed, sneaking a look to his side to Ai. She looked pretty pleased with herself.

"Very well. For our sake and yours we have everything recorded on tape as well as in writing. Shall I begin?"

"Go ahead."

"Sure."

Arukawa pulled out a microphone and plugged it into a portable recording device.

"Please, if you understand and consent, reply to my questions with your full name and consent."

"Understood," Daisuke replied. Arukawa coughed.

"This is Saito Daisuke and I understand," he corrected.

"This is Sato Ai and I understand."

"Good. Now have I made clear that this is a clinical trial under the public name of Danganronpa, and as with all clinical trials there is a possibility of complications or death?"

"This is Saito Daisuke and you have made this clear."

"This is Sato Ai and you have made this clear."

"Team Danganronpa, administering these trials, will be conducting experiments that will not wipe out your memories but will overwrite them. Do the participants accept that this will be done to them, and that the personas that they are given may be wildly different from themselves?"

"Saito Daisuke accepts."

"Sato Ai accepts."

"With these personas the participants may act in ways that they will not in real life. Do the participants acknowledge that for the extent of the trial they may do things that they would not normally choose to do?"

"Saito Daisuke acknowledges."

"Sato Ai acknowledges."

"Do the participants accept that, in exchange for this extreme sacrifice to science that they will receive four things- firstly, that should they survive the clinical trial, they will be able to keep their personality and skills they have been given, if they do choose so and those gifts are not detrimental to a peaceful society, secondly, that they will be completely exempt from any laws that their given personas break during the course of the experiment, thirdly, that Team Danganronpa will provide any required and requested comforts for the duration of the trial so long as they do not interfere with the research conducted, and finally, receive monetary compensation of 300 million yen should they survive the trial, on 100 million yen to the recipient of their choice should they not?"

Daisuke's eyes widened. He knew they'd be receiving some kind of prize but... whoah.

"Saito Daisuke accepts and acknowledges, and will request half that compensation be donated to leukemia research."

Ai looked taken aback, blinking. "As does Sato Ai."

"Donating, too?" Arukawa asked, to be sure.

"Meant what I said," she added smugly.

"I'll have the written contracts and your NDAs set up while you two get physicals, then. Lunch will be offered after. What would you each like?" Arukawa asked, ending the recording.

"We get to ask for anything?" Daisuke questioned with the widest grin.

"You are going to be the worlds largest thorn in my side, Saito-kun, and yes, take advantage of that," Arukawa replied in almost mock exasperation. Daisuke was actually starting to -gasp- like her.

"Okay, /mom/, I want a burger, fries, and a large chocolate milkshake."

"No foie gras? No fugu?" Arukawa teased.

"Ugh. Noooo that's gross," Daisuke replied, sticking out his tongue for extra effect. "And don't ever put coffee near me, that smell makes me puke."

"You know," Arukawa said, looking at him slyly as she scribbled down his lunch, "smells that make us want to vomit are very closely tied to memories. It's a defense mechanism. Just something to think about. And Sato-chan, sweetie, what can I get for you?"

"Same but vanilla."

"You know there's a joke around the office called the Killing Game Five Kilo. Nobody walks out without having gained five kilo or more."

"Guess we're getting a head start then?" Ai asked with a smile, adding in for emphasis a nice long "...Moooom."

* * *

Ai and Daisuke were shuttled off to separate rooms for health and psyche evaluations, breaking for a quick lunch before diving back into their separate rooms. It was all a bit dizzying, and by hour 5 Daisuke was sick of pushing block puzzles around or trying to solve lock-picking puzzles that were way over his head. He thought he was pretty smart, and the first part of the IQ test was a breeze, but it very quickly delved into logic puzzles and questions far beyond his ability.

Were they doing a baseline test against what ultimate skill they'd get? Daisuke wanted to compare notes with Ai later.

* * *

It was finally around 4 pm, when they were released back to the main lobby area.

"Just a few more things and you're free to go," Arukawa said clicking her heels in the wood as she slid down next to a stern looking gentleman. "Saito-kun and Sato-chan, your notary."

The two nodded, and Arukawa continued. "Before our contracts, we have a questionnaire. This is everything you will and won't accept for your character. Once you've chosen, unless there's a real issue with something we didn't catch, it's very hard to change. Writing out characters takes some time, and more to prep the memory implants."

"Like a certain diver and the smell of blood?" Daisuke quipped.

"You know, at this point I kind of expected that," Arukawa said, sighing. "I'm going to have to have a chat with her about sharing private information."

"Oh don't worry, she was very clear when she couldn't answer a question. I'm just really good at poking at things until I get what I want."

Arukawa sighed and smiled. "That you are."

Daisuke ducked his head and looked down at the sheet.

GETTING UNDRESSED IN FRONT OF CAMERAS  
-fine  
x swimsuit levels only  
-never  
BEING EXCEPTIONALLY LEWD OR CRASS  
-yes  
x only if they deserve it  
-never  
PLAYING A VILLAIN  
-yes  
-I'm opportunistic  
-no

Daisuke's hand hovered over the villain question. Further down it asked about murder, and how easily one might be swayed (not at all was not a choice), so this was... independent of actually being a murder culprit.

Daisuke didn't x anything. He circled 'yes' theee times and left a giant smiley face.

He grinned to himself a little and kept reading down the sheet. If there was anything he knew about supervillains from his comics- they always had the coolest costumes.

* * *

"Well, sign here, here, and here, and that's the last of it, you two," Arukawa said, gently.

"Thanks, mom!" Daisuke chirped.

He noticed she wasn't even attempting to correct them, and never was, for that matter.

He'd keep his eye out on her, too. There had to be some reason she kept up with this insane research for so long.

Daisuke and Ai took back their cell phones, receiving a small black and white envelope with them.

Another 10,000 yen for the day. Well, this time it was hours of work, so it made sense. Daisuke flipped open his wallet, slipping the bill inside. "Date night?" he asked Ai, looking sideways and up, before dialing it back a little. "Uh, sorry. Was that too.. forward?"

"Might as well get this all in before the crazy starts," she replied. "I kind of wanted to pick your brain, anyway. Oh, and your glasses are all crooked."

Daisuke turned red, adjusting his glasses, before offering his arm to the taller girl. Ai blushed a little herself, before reaching out and accepting it.

"We have a secret weapon against this thing," Daisuke said.

"I'm going to remember everything in there, and then we're going to crush it."

"I... hope so."

Daisuke and Ai walked out into the early evening to a bit of a chill. "I... I put in for mastermind, Daisuke-kun," she finally blurred. "I figured it's the safest way to guarantee I'll make it to the end. So if I'm... really mean to you or something, I wanted to apologize in advance. It'll be me, but it won't, you know? I trust you to make it and not vote to have me killed..."

"But then someone's shuffled in the following season," Daisuke replied with a frown. "I will agree, that's a smart early strategy. It would give us time. And I... I'll probably be an asshole myself, so if I do anything to you... I'm sorry."

"Wh- what did you write on the questionnaire?"

"Low desire to kill, but play as a villain," Daisuke replied.

"And from what Momo-chan- uh, she's a friend of mine who survived an earlier season- said, if you say yes to something, that doesn't mean it's written in, but... I figure it's going to be easier for me to work things out in the game if I'm everyone's enemy. I'll be able to move around a lot easier without detection if people want to stay away. Also, the villains..."

"...get way cooler powers?" Ai finished. "You, uh, left your copy of Guardians of the Galaxy on the table last time. I've been using a dictionary, and my English isn't that great, but it was fun to read!"

Daisuke turned deep red. "I'm like, level 500 nerd, here, Ai-chan, are you okay with that?"losers have to stick together right? And earn lots of money for my brother."

"All the money."

"When we're done in going to have it taken out in 10,000 yen bills and roll in it," she replied, squeezing his hand tighter. "Being the villain is always better. Who doesn't love to hate someone?"

Daisuke sighed. "What the hell are we doing with ourselves?"

"I don't know, but..." Ai paused, turning to look Daisuke straight in the eye. "You told me I was the first person to give a shit about you. I... I'm hated at school, the only reason I'm good at doing makeup is that you... you'd see things on me from when my mom is violent. My brother figured the only thing left to live for is die dramatically. My life is a mess. I was going to try and convince you to back down, or not, or yes, for the past two weeks. I didn't know what to do with myself. And then I hear that this is really used as research to help people? Daisuke-kun, even if it means I have something I'm dying for, I'm actually going to be useful for once. And be damn proud of it."

"Ai-chan..."

"I don't care what happens once we actually get called to go. I'm doing this for my brother, for a stranger who's looking out for me and... for whomever's lives we will help with whatever they do to us. So if we are going to be terrible people and die horribly, let's be the worst people we can and explode like fireworks."

Daisuke didn't care that they were in the middle of the promenade sidewalk. He grabbed Ai's hands, yanked her over to the nearest free bench, and sat them both down, curling her into a hug, PDA be damned.

They both sobbed for an hour.

* * *

"Oh my gosh, I should have worn waterproof makeup, look at you," Ai said, finally poking her head up from their gross, snot dripping cry. "My face ran all over you, hang on, I think I have some wipes."

"Am I pretty?" Daisuke asked jokingly, pulling off his glasses to get the crust off of them.

"Pretty gross, hang still." Ai pulled a small pack of wet wipes out of her bag when they noticed a police officer trotting towards them.

"Everything all right you two? No lovers quarrels?"  
Daisuke bent his head down. They probably looked like hell.

"We... we just found out my friend's brother has cancer. Can you leave us alone? We... we'll move somewhere else soon..."

The officer was visibly shaken. "Uh-uh-uh, c-carry on. If you want to wash up in the police box's bathroom, I can escort you two..." he replied hands up and embarrassed.

"Sorry to bother you then."

The officer trotted off as quickly as he came, and Ai turned back to Daisuke, gently cupping his chin in her hand.

"Smooth," she said. "Eyes closed, Lord of the Lies, and I'll get this ick off."


	7. Give 'Em a Show

"I feel really out of place here," Ai hissed.

"You said 'try something new,'" Daisuke shot back, jokingly, unfolding the menu.

"I can't even... like even if I read the ingredients I have no idea what this is! What the hell is paneer?"

"Soft cheese cubes," Daisuke replied. "I mean you can just tell me what you like and I'll order for the table," he added.

"No bell peppers."

"Spicy?"

"I want to watch the world burn, Daisuke-kun."

"Ooooookay, then."

Daisuke and Ai found themselves in the cramped little Indian restaurant by the Starbucks, tempted over by the smell. To Ai's surprise, the curries they had weren't anything like what she was expecting.

Daisuke did the hard work of placing their order. "Do you want anything to cut the heat?" he'd asked one more time.

"I want to cry harder than I did in the last hour," she joked. "I want to envelop myself in the fires of Hell and... well I really really like it spicy."

"That's a no... okay then, a lassi for me and you're going to get to sit and watch me drink it. Enjoy Satan's asscrack."

Ai squinted. "That's not how you treat a lady," she added with a smirk. "...buttmunch."

"Whoa, whoa, where is this coming from? What did I do to deserve the flaming tongue of such a gorgeous-" Daisuke froze, as he realized the words tumbling out of his mouth.

"No, go on, finish that sentence," Ai joked. "I'll wait."

"You're pretty," Daisuke stuttered.

"Are you going to be offended if I say you're cute?" she asked quietly.

Daisuke twiddled his fingers and looked down at his water. "It's... it kind of makes me feel like I'm still a little kid, but, if it's coming from you... it's a compliment.... and I won't say I don't use it to my advantage when I need it. I just want my damn puberty to hit already! I still get mistaken for a fifth grader! And I think I'm older than you!" And then Daisuke broke out laughing. "One hell of a day, isn't it."

"Ugh, I was sick of those stupid chemistry puzzles," Ai said. "Do you remember the one with the blue and red mixtures?"

Daisuke blinked. "I didn't have any puzzles about chemistry. I had these weird puzzles like 'if you can ask two questions to three people, one of them lies, one of them tells the truth, and one could do either, what questions would you ask to whom'- lots of different versions. And lock-picking puzzles. And some with pushing blocks around a maze to pull out one."

"I had block pushing puzzles, too, but nothing about lock-picking. Some cyphers, and some short murder mysteries."

"I had cyphers."

"Maybe they switch up from a set?" Ai asked. "Seems like we had some overlap."

"Oooor... we may have figured out what our talents will be, and that was some kind of baseline test..." Daisuke replied. "I mean yours would be pretty obvious, given your interview."

"They're seriously going to turn me into the detective?" she hissed, as plates laden with paneer and roasted goat were placed on their table. "There's no way they're going to do that and make me the mastermind. That's not a fair game, thats a slaughter. I'd be messing with the crime scene like whoah."

"Arukawa said two girls offered to do it. It might not be you. I might be wrong, too, but..."

"What about the questionnaire?" Ai asked, watching as Daisuke laid down a bed of rice and topped it with the dishes they'd ordered so she could copy him.

"Personality. I mean, I'm going to go on a limb and say mine might be phantom thief or something similar- lock picking and lying and cyphers? But from there, my character could be honorable, or mean, or whatever. Shouldn't have much to do with the talent. I mean, you've got a scale of Joker from Persona to Joker from Batman as archetypes there."

"If the detective is the mastermind you're going to have your work cut out for you," Ai muttered. "And I'm an idiot."

"Just means I need to work harder, right? And who knows. You could be right, and those could have just been pulled from a set. Did you have a cypher with the zodiac symbols?"

"Two dials, one with the Chinese zodiac, one with Western?"

"So those were the same," Daisuke mused, ripping a piece of naan to dip in the sauce. "See? My theory already has holes in it. When I was watching the show to take some notes I thought these people just were given talents, not whole new personalities too. And my friend Momo-chan was Yurie-chan on the show. She looks completely different, too. It's almost like they're trying to make us so different that the survivors can just go back to their lives after... if they wanted to, I guess. Maybe we should just wait it out?"

"I've only met you twice and I can tell you you're not going to sit on your heels. Can... next time you go to see her, can I visit?"

"She invited me to lunch tomorrow, and it's a Sunday. Want me to ask her if you can join?"

"Awwww, but I'll be third-wheeling."

"I draw the line at college girls, that's a lot of no," Daisuke replied with a grin, pointing his spoon at Ai.

"Well aren't those words of confidence," Ai replied, sticking her first spoonful in her mouth and contemplating. "Could use a little more heat."

* * *

"Thanks to you running your mouth I got a hell of a talking-to last night," Momo said, tussling Daisuke's hair with her elbow.

"I told them you declined to answer my questions pretty often!" Daisuke replied, taking as long a stride as he could to keep up with Momo and Ai. Momo wasn't telling them where she was taking them today, but he was just happy to be outside with people that didn't hate him. Two. At once!

"Yeah, and I told them exactly what I told you... they actually said it was okay, since you're both contestants. And they told me I'm allowed to speak more if you have questions, with a few exceptions, so you might as well ask. I thought they were going to take me to court, Daisuke-kun, and I would have wrung that from youuuu," she added, jokingly.

"Okay... well, uh, when are we going to get called in for taping?"

"It's an off-season, so when this season ends you'll be called in. Otherwise they would already be taping the next one. I'm sure editing all that content down to a season of episodes takes longer than the taping itself. Especially with how many cameras they hide."

"How long are we there?"

"It could be 2-3 weeks of prep, and unless someone in game kills a bunch of people at once... about 2-3 weeks of game. Then the survivors have a few weeks to recuperate, do interviews, mental health stuff, remember themselves, so... could be two or three months total."

"Um," Ai cut in. "Do they.. like hide cameras in the bathrooms and stuff?"

"There's two kinds of cameras. The kind that are being used for the eventual broadcast, and the kind they use for observing. I mean, they'll use both for observation, but only the first kind will actually be used for the TV recordings. Most bedrooms, showers, etc have a camera so they can do their research, and make sure they know who murder culprits are. You'll have someone of the same sex manning those, but yeah, you're watched constantly. Hey, don't look at me, you signed up for it. And how are they supposed to conduct psych research if your bedrooms aren't monitored?"

Daisuke and Ai both looked away.

"Neither of you ever needed to take a sleep study before? Pansies," Momo pulled each one of them in for a side hug. She seemed... very un-Japanese. Open. A bit loud. Her character had rubbed off on her, Daisuke assumed.

"Aaaany-way. We were wondering about the tests we took yesterday," Daisuke asked, as Momo rested her arms down and pointed to a building across the street.

"What about them?"

"Standard physical, then lots of measurements- guessing for costumes-"

"Yep, yep."

"Psychological evaluation, and what seemed like an IQ test of sorts. Except only some of our sections overlap."

"Oh that's the talent baseline. They didn't tell you what they're working on for you?"

"No, I'm guessing because we just signed contracts yesterday."

"Yeah, that was two separate things for me. They may have you come back and take more specialized sections once they're sure what they'll give you. Usually they figure out the set of sixteen as, well, a set. Complimentary personalities and skills. What kind of questions? Maybe we can guess together? But ehh, they could have just been practice and you'll get a more specialized test later. Mine had oceanography stuff, chemistry puzzles, and a mock submarine cockpit."

"Mine was just a paper test, murder mysteries, chemistry puzzles, block pushing..." Ai said.

"Yeah, that sounds kinda general to me... one of most peoples tests was something a bit more practical. Unless..."

"Unless?"

"Your skill is something best on paper. Ultimate writer, ultimate detective, that kind of thing? Daisuke-kun, did you have any practical sections?"

"I had some lock-picking puzzles- some were diagrams or symbol matching but a few of them had me trying to open actual puzzle boxes and locks."

"Calling it now, you're a thief," Momo said. "I'll put a 1,000 note on that too. "Then my guess for Ai-chan is detective. They haven't had one since season 47, wouldn't surprise me at all."

Ai and Daisuke looked at each other nervously. "If you're the detective and mastermind and I'm a thief, that's a heck of a game of cat and mouse," Daisuke mused aloud. "Ai-chan if you promise not to frame me for murder I'll do my best to keep you alive for the game."

"You know, I can't believe they picked two people who knew each other that well," Momo mused as they stepped inside. "We're here for the cooking classes?" she turned and asked the receptionist in a 180* turn of tone, before turning back to the two of them.

"I remember they made it a pretty big point of not sharing too much personal info with each other before they started with the memory alterations. They have to be choosing the two of you together on purpose."

Daisuke folded his arms up over his head. "Then I guess we gots give them a show."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all might get two chapters today. 8 is Very Long though so...


	8. The Dome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Head's up, the chapter was getting too long (over 8 pages) so I split this chapter in 2. Ai's character is revealed in 9... sorry guys!
> 
> Wait no.
> 
> I am not sorry. :P

Two months flew by, almost too fast, and Daisuke was having second thoughts. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he had friends, real friends.

Every day after school, he'd be with Ai, or Momo, or both of them together. Cooking classes (Momo's treat), visiting Mamoru in the hospital, indulging Daisuke in his comics habit- turns out Squirrel Girl was a universal good. 

God, did Mamoru and Ai look nearly like twins, if Mamoru weren't hooked up to tubes. Mamoru couldn't be more excited to find out his sister's acceptance on the show, although he wasn't allowed to share that info. He was given permission to participate... somehow, which only bothered Daisuke until he learned whatever it was was completely safe. Helping man one of the mobile public area cameras remotely, apparently. Ai chided that he better get her good side.

Mamoru hoped he could just keep it in the dining hall, so he could have meals with his sister.

"I'm going to tape every episode and watch it fifty times!" he'd added brightly. "And make everyone your curry, I know they'll like it."

"If they don't overwrite my ability to cook," Ai replied, smiling a little. "Did they tell you what you'll be able to do?"

"Yeah, I'll have a survey form to submit for one of the moving cameras, so I can tell it where to go. I'll only be able to issue commands for public places. If you see it overhead, wave for me? Oh and sis, take my hat with you? So I'm there too?"

Daisuke was pretty sure Mamoru was the only reason Ai accepted when they sent her some one way train tickets to Gunma Prefecture, for the taping.

And if Ai was going, Daisuke was too.

"Good luck, both of you," Momo said, seeing them off at the station with Mamoru and his nurse. Ai's mother never showed, and Daisuke was given a packet for his school absence stating he'd be studying in America for a while, so this was their goodbyes.

"And the minute you're clear to call me, after it's all over, you'd better," Momo added.

"But what if..."

"I've got another 2,000 riding on each of you coming home, don't make me waste my money," Momo replied quietly. "I believe in you two."

"Thanks, Momo-chan," Daisuke whispered. Momo bent down to scoop him in a hug.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," she chided.

"I'm going to be a phantom thief, right? Phantom thieves don't kill."

"No, no they don't."

Momo gave Ai a quick embrace, who was clutching her brother's hat she'd threaded through her top's belt, until Daisuke tugged her hand.

"We need to get on," he said quietly. "Lets go."

* * *

"Check out those mountains," Daisuke said, rapping the window as the train slowed. "That's our stop."

"Y-yeah," Ai replied, nodding.

Both of them slung their backpacks on, grabbing their duffel bags from the overhead rack, and stepped off the train once the doors opened.

A young man, maybe college age, was standing with a sign right on the platform in a black fleece zip up jacket.

"Danganronpa staff," Daisuke muttered, noticing the red logo on the upper right. "Guess he's our handler or something."

"Sato and Saito?" the man asked nervously.

"What, it looks like you just witnessed a murder," Daisuke cracked at him. "Yeah that's us."

"Are you actually sixteen?"

"I'm the token shouta," Daisuke grinned as Ai facepalmed. "What, its true, someone's jailbait every season from what I could see, might as well live up to my role."

"Arukawa sensed said you'd be a handful and a half; she was not joking," the staff member said, sighing. "Izaki Tohru, graduate robotics research at Todai, and I'll be babysitting a few of you. Let's hang out in the station and get you guys some lunch- two more of you will be coming in within the half hour and it's easier to just bring you all there at once than make trips."

"Why is a roboticist working for Danganronpa?" Ai asked. 

"Intern, and you'll see," he said with a smile. "My whole thesis group is working for TD this season, erm, Team Danganronpa. It's a lot easier to say. It doesn't hurt that it pays well and we've built something insanely cool."

"Is one of the contestants... a robot?!" Daisuke's eyes widened to saucers.

"Like I said, you'll see, Mr. Jailbait," Tohru replied, rolling his eyes. "C'mon, the food court is downstairs. It's way smaller than anything from where you're from, but there's some really good fried udon."

* * *

"...please tell me he comes with a  volume knob," Daisuke whispered to Ai. As the smallest, he volunteered to take the back middle of the overladen SUV, but it really was just to guarantee he'd be sitting next to Ai. To his other side was another girl, about Ai's height, slender, and quiet. Her hair was in a tight ponytailed braid going down to her skirt hemline. 

It was the incredibly loud teen with an obnoxious douchebag goatee in the front passenger seat that was making Daisuke grind his teeth.

"Dude, I am gonna be the last man standing with the prettiest girl in the cast, and we are going to throw our money up in the air and laugh like hell."

"You're not going to just kill the cast and get away with it?" asked the girl Daisuke didn't know. "Because if that were my endgame, I'd find one person I wanted to save and just torch a room with everyone else in it."

Daisuke squeezed Ai's hand, and didn't meet her gaze. It was the first thing that girl had even said to anyone, and she went right back to gazing out the window at the scenery. 

'Note to self- I hope they knock some sense in that woman, it's her personality that could use a makeover," Daisuke thought.

He sighed, and turned on his headphones to drown out the sound of Captain Goatee.

* * *

The facility was massive. There was a smaller compound- small was relative though, because behind it was a gigantic sealed dome, with a wall that stretched ten or twenty meters in the air all around, solid, with no visible entry.

"That's the set?" Daisuke asked, craning his neck.

"Yuuuup, way bigger than last season. With the robotics research we're doing this time, we got a massive grant from Honda Motors. You'll get an entire campus, not just a school, with some courtyards and stuff. It's cool."

"How do we get in and out?"

"There's some lifts. You come in from under- we can even lift whole buildings in from under if we want to add some stuff to the courtyard- there's a full-size dojo we can raise up on one side, and a robotics lab on the other. There's a massive complex of tunnels, too, I'm sure they'll give you the grand tour."

"For today, you're just going to get settled in the bunks and get your character sheets. That way, if there's any last minute issues, we have a little time to make some changes... we've already had to deal with once incident today."

"Oh?" Daisuke asked quizzically.

"One of your group got in crit condition two days ago, so my teams drawing straws tonight to replace him. Think it's the first time someone older than 18's been on in years. They don't like doing adults. Apparently it's way less effective if you're older, so they're going to take two from the robotics team and cross fingers. It's a good opportunity to study anyway."

"Oh great," groaned Goatee. "Isn't that a huge unfair advantage?"

"Stop whining, rocks for brains," snapped the braided girl. "That kind of attitude is going to make everyone subconsciously hate your guts. I don't think you want to have your organs strewn outside your body one morning, do you?"

"Eeeeeh, I could take you," he said, squinting.

"Could you now? I've been doing naginata since I was six. You'd be on the floor before you even knew what hit you." She squinted her eyes. "They only add memories over our own. I'm sure if I hate you enough I'll still remember that, even if I don't know why."

"You wouldn't dare..."

"AHEM." Five pairs of eyes shot towards the source of the sound. "Rei-chan, Ichiro-kun. Save that enthusiasm for the game itself please." Arukawa-sensei was in a lab coat, and still her heels. 

"Yes'm..." they both muttered... looking away. 

"Sorry for the first-name basis, but these two are both Hondas, we have to Sato and a Saito. It's probably easier for everyone. You all introduced yourselves, yeah?"

They all shook their heads. "Well, well, that won't do. Come on inside, everyone else is already here. We'll have you talk with the writers and then we'll all group back to introduce ourselves, how does that sound? Now then, chins up. I'm positive the four of you'll like what you got. I've already broken all the bad news we have."

"Bad news?" Ichiro (or so Daisuke thought, Rei could be gender neutral but Ichiro was definitely a male name) asked, finally -FINALLY- toning down his volume to acceptable levels.

"You can't have a killing game if everyone is a good person, then again, they did ask for it," Arukawa-sensei said with a wave of her hand. "That doesn't mean your characters won't kill. But some need less a push than others. Now then?"

Daisuke had heard enough from Arukawa that he knew when she spoke she genuinely seemed to be looking out for all these kids. But why the insistence on a death match for science? He didn't quite believe that being backed into a corner that badly was necessary... was it?

* * *

"Well, Daisuke-kun."

Daisuke was seated- a little nervously at that, in a tiny office with Arukawa and who he presumed was one of the writers, an equally distressed young woman with a pair of braids, giant glasses, and a tic of biting at her thumb.

"You're one of the ones with two ch-char-character sheets," the braided woman stuttered. "Your actual character and-and-and what everyone else will think you are, which you can share with e-e-everyone later tonight."

"You're not supposed to share the first sheet's information with anyone, but I know you so I'll just give you permission to share it with Ai-chan. I'll leave you with Toki-chan, okay? Ai-chan is probably going to have a lot more questions than you."

Daisuke nodded quietly, as Toki pulled out a manila envelope. Hopefully that didn’t mean what Daisuke thought it might- that Ai was chosen as the game’s mastermind.

“Wh-which do you want to see first? Wh-what you are or what other th-th-think you are?”

“I’m guessing my character is a phantom thief, with some kind of cover?” Daisuke asked.

“C-close. Take a-a look.”

Gingerly, Daisuke took one of the sheets out, with a large red “YOUR EYES ONLY” stamped on. This must be his actual sheet. Trembling, he opened it.

**_OUMA KOKICHI- age 17_ **

**_(Saito Daisuke, age 16)_ **

**_ULTIMATE PRANKSTER/LIAR_ **

(Daisuke laughed a little, so not a thief, but the lying puzzles and lock picking made some sense, and Momo owed him money.)

**_OUMA Kokichi is the leader of a small prankster group named DICE, but his skills as a manipulator are legendary. With his friends, he’s hacked major corporation’s websites, left behind giant installations, and once even knit-bombed the White House in the USA. Despite only having 10 members, or maybe because of it, they’ve managed to out-prank the best in all the world. While his team may use... less than legal means, they’re always in good fun. No stealing, and certainly no permanent damage may be committed to property or person alike. Because of this, Ouma-kun has incredible powers of social engineering, and is the least likely of the cast to be incited to commit murder (though if something pushes him hard enough…)._ **

**_He’s not going to present his true persona to the outside public, however, so please read the other sheet for his perceived ultimate skill and story._ **

Daisuke laughed. It read a bit like a sheet for a tabletop RPG.

**_Ouma is reserved, and is extremely unlikely to be physically active with other cast members, though he may be slightly romantically inclined._ **

Thank the heavens.

**_Possible Romantic Affiliations:_ **

**_High: Iruma Miu (f), K1-B0 (robot)_ **

So, Daisuke was right, there was going to be a robot. Neat. He’d take his first kiss with an android (if it couldn’t be with Ai), and kept reading.

**_Saihara Shuichi (m)_ **

w h a t.

Daisuke blinked for a moment.

“Um… who wrote my character as… erm…” he added, pointing to the offending name on the sheet.

“Everyone is, always has been that-that-that way, it’s whether your ch-ch-character acts on it. I remember setting Ouma just shy of-of-of complete romantic disinterest though.”

Daisuke blushed and read down the sheet.

**_Possible: Tojo Kirumi (f), Momota Kaito (m), Amami Rantaro (m)_ **

Okay, Daisuke laughed a little at the last one. At least it would make for decent TV.

**_Repulsed by: Chabashira Tenko (f), Shinguji Korekiyo (m), Yonaga Angie (f)_ **

Daisuke quickly counted off. So that’s nine characters, ten with him. Six names he didn’t yet know, and quietly wondered if any of the girls listed were Ai, or if she was in the grouping left unlisted.

**_Likelihood of murder: Extremely low_ **

**_Ouma is NOT the mastermind._ **

So that was that.

“A-a-any issues?” Toki asked.

“Nothing I can see, not really, but let me see the other sheet?” Gently he unfolded the public one, which had a tear away section on the bottom.

**_Ouma is NOT the mastermind._ **

“Rip that off for me… p-p-please? That way everyone’s public sheets have the bottom torn off. Only the mastermind knows. An I need your real paper back. You can k-k-keep the fake.”

“Sure,” Daisuke replied, carefully tearing off the bottom section, and handed the true paper and the torn piece back before reading.

**_OUMA KOKICHI- age 17_ **

**_(Saito Daisuke, age 16)_ **

**_ULTIMATE SUPREME LEADER_ **

Okay… what the heck was that supposed to mean?

**_OUMA Kokichi is the leader of a massive shadow organization named DICE, and his skills as a manipulator are legendary. With his 10,000 loyal followers around the globe, he’s hacked major corporation’s websites, stolen priceless artifacts, and once even bombed the White House in the USA. Just about every mafia family, from the Kuzuryuus to the Hand, is actually under DICE’s control, and Ouma’s thumb. While his team may use... less than legal means, they’re never caught and have nearly every top politician at their beck and call. Nothing is sacred. Because of this, Ouma-kun has incredible powers of social engineering, and is the most likely of the cast to be incited to commit murder._ **

Daisuke laughed. Well then, that’s… a heck of a public persona. Given that he’d be actually playing the Ultimate Liar, being able to convince the others of this would be hilarious.

**_Ouma is reserved, and is extremely unlikely to be physically active with other cast members, though he may be slightly romantically inclined._ **

**_Possible Romantic Affiliations:_ **

**_High: Iruma Miu (f), K1-B0 (robot)_** , **_Saihara Shuichi (m)_**

**_Possible: Tojo Kirumi (f), Momota Kaito (m), Amami Rantaro (m)_ **

**_Repulsed by: Chabashira Tenko (f), Korekiyo Shinguji (m), Yonaga Angie (f)_ **

So that’s public knowledge. Okay.

**_Likelihood of murder: Extremely high_ **

And then the torn off section.

“All good?”

“Well, it’s not going to be boring, at least,” Daisuke replied. “Can I go see my friend?”

“If she’s out of her consultation, sure. Tough… if I recall her character, this might be a while.”

“So she’s the mastermind?”

“If-if-if she were, I’d keep my mouth shut. But th-th-there’s something on the public sheet I know she’s going to have questions about. You’ll see tonight at-at the latest.”

“Is her character sheet the robot one? Kee-bo?”

“No, but if she’s still busy, I can t-t-take you to meet K1-B0.”

“Whaaaa really? Yeah, please! It’s a real robot?”

“Yes, it is. Iidabashi’s team finished tw-two weeks ago. They’ve just been fine tuning.”

Daisuke jumped out of his seat and ran to the door, whooping like a little kid, as Toki stood up calmly to see him out.

 


	9. The Game is Afoot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now you all know why I split this in two, just this half was 11 pages long.  
> Yes, the wait's over, but this story's just getting started....  
> I will go through the entire killing game (up until... I can't...) from Daisuke's/Kokichi's perspective, so yeah, this fic is going to get long. Thanks for sticking with so far! I'm super happy getting emails with kudos and reviews!  
> Oh yeah, and remember that animatronic Monokuma from chapter 2?  
> I built one! Be terrified!  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hjKJYeav8jY
> 
> Currently working on a K1-b0 cosplay. With full lights and effects :)

Daisuke pressed his face to the glass at the entry to the Todai team's labs. He couldn't get a clear view, there were about ten college students inside with a wiry, older, white-haired man in thick-rimmed glasses, surrounding a chair. One of the students- a young woman with a high bun, finally moved out of the way, and he could see it.

A mop of stiff, silver-white hair, unblinking, glowing blue eyes. Daisuke was surprised, the robot looked more masculine in nature than he was expecting, given almost all android research he did see coming from universities tended to make more feminine forms. Aside from its face, which was a sort of soft white plastic that contorted as it moved it features, the rest was solid silver, thick plates that slid seamlessly over themselves as the robot flexed an arm.

Someone handed K1-b0 what looked to be a school uniform jacket, and the robot delicately gripped it, slung it over its shoulder, put his arms through, and buttoned it up. Daisuke watched in awe. The movements weren't completely fluid, there were unnatural pauses between the steps, but the machine didn't falter, and had enough precision to button the high collared jacket without mistakes.

K1-b0 turned its head slowly, and, with a pause too long to be quite organic, as if searching for the correct response, it finally turned its mouth up to a smile, and waved at the glass.

One of the students unlocked the lab door from the inside, ushering Daisuke in.

"...hi?"

"Good afternoon, ah, it is afternoon, yes? Oh, it is nearly five. So... good evening?"

Daisuke was expecting a recorded, canned, GPS voice. While the robot before him spoke in measured tone, it wasn't the slightest bit mechanical in sound. He sounded like an ordinary teenager, if a little slow and polite. 

"I'm sorry, just, whoa."

"K1-b0, why don't you introduce yourself?" one of the students asked, placing a hand on its shoulder.

K1-b0 straightened its back sharply. "Er, yes! I am K1-b0! I am running a modified version of the Tokyo Daigaku computer science department's Katherine-Bonnie AI programme, housed in-"

"K1-b0, he's not an investor. Introduce yourself as you would when we get a new lab intern."

"Oh, oh I am quite sorry..." K1-b0 replied, a bit dejected. Its whole face lit up bright pink. "I'm still quite bad at reading the room... um... what is your name?"

"It's Daisuke."

"That is your first name? How would you prefer to be called?"

"Using kun is fine?"

"I shall commit that to my memory banks, Daisuke-kun. As you've likely surmised, my name is K1-b0. These people are all helped bring me to life, but the grumpy gentleman in the corner is my creator, Doctor Iidabashi."

The old man made a bit of a grunt, but Daisuke could see the hints of a very proud parent.

"I... hobbies, yes?" It asked, looking around the room. With an affirmative nod, it continued. "I enjoy cooking and baking, and have been told I'm fairly proficient, though I cannot eat food. I try to make things that are visually pleasing, so I can glean some enjoyment from it as well. I also have olfactory detection, though it is not here," it added, pointing to its nose, "but here," it added, wiggling its fingers.

"You smell... with your hands?"

"It was the only way to not cross the visual circuit," K1-b0 added. "For me to approximate human binocular vision I have four interconnected pinhole cameras, on the outside and inside corners of my 'eyes'- the sensory information between that and my nose sensor was constantly being crossed. In humans I believe the phenomena is known as synesthesia? I would smell cookies and see pink, for example, or see a lot of blue, such as the sky, and smell burned rice. On the one hand, I am glad I can now correctly partake in the sensory experience, but on the other..." he added looking down at his hands. "It is a reminder that I am not quite as human as I should be."

"Hey, but you're cool just the way you are! Dude, you're a fully autonomous AI!"

"Mostly autonomous," K1-b0 corrected. "My AI itself is entirely autonomous, yes, but my chassis can be remotely overtaken. An emergency precaution. I am not particularly strong, but I am both quite heavy and am made of extremely durable material. Though, typically, if I am doing something I should not be, someone on staff can communicate with me wirelessly. I think the only time I was remotely operated was when I fell on top of a student, pinning them down, and too panicked to get off. I... would have crushed her... but, but, she was okay! And I've been learning how to calm down when I am distressed. I still have a lot of trouble getting up if I am sitting or lying down, however..." K1-b0 added sheepishly.

Daisuke flitted his eyes between the college students as K1-b0 spoke, watching their reactions. All of them were quiet, and one girl nodded along to the cadence of K1-b0's speech, which was oddly measured and soothing. It seemed as though nobody wanted to interrupt the robot's thoughts. One young man was trying to discreetly take notes, but Daisuke met his gaze and smirked.

Interacting with someone presumed to be roughly the same age must be something K1-b0 didn’t do often.

"Er, K1-b0?"

"Yes?"

"I never asked you if you preferred -kun or -chan yourself."

"Whichever makes you more comfortable, Daisuke-kun."

"Well, clearly you can think for yourself, yeah? You should pick. We're supposed to meet up with the other contestants for din- oh crap I'm sorry."

"I can still join everyone, I'm not offended. Kun, then, though my honest preference is no suffix at all. K1-b0 is an acronym. It sounds off to add to it."

"Whose opinion is that?" Daisuke asked quizzically.

"Mine. Most of the researchers use -kun. Erm, but if it isn't too much trouble, please do use male pronouns? I do not like being referred to as an 'it'."

One of the girls made a quiet fist pump- Daisuke assumed she was happy K1-b0 was thinking for itsel- himself.

A bell rung softly in the distance, reminiscent of a schoolbell.

“if it is now five, I remember the psychologists mentioning we needed to head to the main hall. Shall we head there together, Daisuke-kun?”

“Yeah, you need anything? Like, I dunno, a charge?”

“Oh no, I am good for another three days. Oh, but I have a character sheet. I have not read it yet.”

“Don’t you have to rip off the bottom part?”

“Bottom part?” K1-b0 asked tilting his head.

“There’s a tear away section on the bottom of the sheet. It tells you if you’re the game’s mastermind.”

“Oh, then I should read it. C-can someone give me a hand up?”

“Don’t show us the whole sheet,” one of the boys chided. “Keisuke-kun and I are going to be in this round. Well, one of us, whoever takes to the memory wipes better.”

“Ah, I overheard about the substitution. A- a hand please?” K1-b0 asked, slight panic in his voice. The largest boy in the room, a massive over-two-meter beast of a man, held out an arm for K1-b0 to grip to stand. K1-b0 tottered for a moment before settling his balance. “Thank you, Keisuke-kun. Why don’t you, Toshiro-kun, and Daisuke-kun exit the room? I shall be out momentarily.”

* * *

A few minutes later, Arukawa-sensei clicked down the hallway. “We were looking for you all,” she chided.

“Waiting on K1-b0, ma’am,” Toshiro replied, adjusting his glasses. Keisuke, meanwhile, shuffled the manila folder between his massive hands. “Honestly, I’m not sure who would be funnier with our sheet, I’m a beanpole nerd and you’re a… well a gigantic beast of a nerd.”

Keisuke shrugged.

“At least you might actually speak to someone for-”

Toshiro was cut off by the sound of the door clicking open, K1-b0 carrying his own manila folder gingerly in a gloved hand and a small frown on his face. Daisuke noticed he was now completely clothed and wearing shoes- the only ‘skin’ visible was his face. K1-b0 tugged at a sleeve to pull it down over a small patch of exposed metal- was he self-conscious of being seen as inorganic in public?

“Why the long face? Not happy with the news?” Toshiro asked, as they started walking towards the great room.

“I… wished to be seen as human, or at least have something…” K1-b0 replied. “My skill is the Ultimate Robot, and my sheet is but a sentence. It is literally just me as I am.”

“Lemme see… you took off the bottom, right?”

“I did.” K1-b0 handed Toshiro the folder.

Toshiro plucked it from K1-b0’s fingers. “but hey, look, you can get into romantic relationships, though! With five people as high probability, too! Our sheet only has four as high.”

“Oh… oh!” K1-b0’s face brightened. “I know the Professor and all of you care deeply about me but… that is very nice to hear.”

“Yeah, and I only have three,” Daisuke pitched in. “One of them is you.”

K1-b0’s face turned pink, and even from the distance between Daisuke and K1-b0, Daisuke could feel heat begin to radiate. “I am glad you came to stop by then. I- oh!”

“Don’t short circuit. Calm. Do some addition.” Keisuke spoke up, and gently gripped K1-b0’s shoulder to stabilize him a little.

“The beast awakens from slumber,” Toshiro joked.

* * *

The seventeen of them sat in a big circle in the center of the floor, with little trays of kaiseki cuisine laid out for each of them. Everyone had a manila folder on the floor near their person. Daisuke took a mental headcount, to find something very unusual.

There were more girls than boys. Counting the two college kids as one person for the purposes of the game, there were only six boys, nine girls, and K1-b0.

Ai reached over with her left hand, squeezing Daisuke’s right. Her brother’s hat, still tied into her belt, almost flopped in Daisuke’s food. She smiled, and flipped it down the belt behind her and out of the way.

“So, we gonna just sit in silence, or are we gonna share how awesome we are?” It was Ichiro who’d cut the silence, and for the first time that day, Daisuke appreciated the loudmouth for breaking the tension. “Hell, at least make the guy who’s trying to reiki his dinner talk first if he’s not gonna do anything but stare at it.”

“Excuse me, I’ll enjoy my food my way, you enjoy it yours,” K1-b0 replied, a bit dryly.

Daisuke noticed that the two dark lines running down K1-b0;s face were gone. Were they projected on, or did he paint over them when he put on pants?

“Weirdo, not even gonna take off your headphones, what are they, glued on?” Ichiro replied, rolling his eyes. “If nobody else is gonna, I will. And mine’s hard to top.”

K1-b0 smiled softly. Daisuke assumed it was because the only thing the jerk had called him was weird, but made no mention he was a robot- which seemed pretty important to him.

Ichiro shot up to attention, flicking open his folder to read from it dramatically. “Name’s Ichiro, I’m from Shibuya, but you all can call me… Momota Kaito, Luminary of the Staaaaars!”

Ichiro was met with nothing but the clicking of chopsticks on plates.

“Really? I’m the **_Ultimate Astronaut_**!”

“It’s set in a school, how’s that useful?” asked a slightly fatter girl with glasses and shoulder length hair. “I mean, my character’s pretty boring, but I have a skill that might actually come in handy in a killing game.”

“Don’t be rude,” K1-b0 cut in, putting his hand down, and looking at the girl across from him. “Ichiro-kun, I would love to hear your character.”

“Talk about turning the other cheek,” Ichiro muttered, before striking a pose again, reading dramatically off his sheet.

“Momota, at the age of sixteen, forged ID to take the annual astronaut’s exam, and passed! He’s a bit lax, and lets other people do more of the common-sense thinking, but under that exterior, Momota is amazingly smart. He’s got experience diving, to practice in underwater simulations, flight training, and can speak all the common languages of the ISS, including Chinese, Russian, and English. Momota, however, can be quickly emotional, and might be manipulated into committing murder.”

K1-b0 golf-clapped, until everyone else around followed suit. “Thank you, Ichiro, your character sounds very passionate!”

“You’re weird, but I like you, kid,” Ichiro replied, giving him a fake salute, and kneeling to sit.

“Oh no, up on your feet,” squeaked a tiny girl. She was more jailbait than Daisuke. “Who you gonna kisssssss?”

Ichiro rolled his eyes and stood back up. “High is Harukawa Maki, Shirogane Tsumugi, Akamatsu Kaede, … and, uh,” Ichiro paused, breathing out the last name quickly, “Saihara Shuichi.”

A few of the girls giggled.

“Hey, I was told everybody’s was written like that. You, shorty, you’re up, prove me right.”

“Okaaaaay. Name’s Hikaru. Like the singer. I’m from Hiroshima, I like swimming… and…”

“Oh, come on, stand up,” Ichiro goaded. Hikaru compiled.

“I’m going to be… uh, the Ultimate Magician, Yumeno Himiko. My character thinks she’s like, a Harry Potter witch, but she’s also really good at stage magic? Makes sense I guess, I’m tiny. If you want to read the whole sheet, bug me, it’s kinda long. But she’s not likely to kill anybody, she’s too lazy. Oh, and yes, my likely relationships are Saihara Shuichi, Akamatsu Kaede, Yonaga Angie, Chabashiro Tenko, and Gokuhara Gonta. Guess I’m mostly a lesbian, sorry boys? And uuuuuh…. Thanks?”

Another quiet round of clapping.

“I guess I have to pick who’s next don’t I?” Hey, you, with the tan, how about you?” Hikaru asked, pointing to a tan girl with light brown hair.

“M-me? I… I stand, yes? I play Angie… good meeting you? Sorry, I am not Japanese. My mom is, but I am Hawaiian…”

[“I can translate,”] Daisuke said, piping up, finally putting his years of Americans comics binging to good use.

[“Oh, please, thank you very much! My name is Jenny Silva, I’m from Hawaii, and I love snorkeling. I’ve got the Ultimate Artist, Yonaga Angie, and I really hope they give me Japanese in my skill set, otherwise this is going to be hard. Um, Angie thinks she can commune with Atua, and through divine presence makes her art. So, she’s pretty easily swayed. She likes K1-b0, who’s weirdly listed as the gender of ‘robot’, plus the girls Chabashira Tenko and Yumeno Himiko- hiiiii, Hikaru, right?- and the guys Gokuhara Gonta, Shinguji Korekiyo, and uhhhh… Saihara Shuichi.”]

Daisuke floundered a little, but was sure he translated well.  Jenny nudged the two college kids to switch seats, so she could be next to the shortest girl, leaving her hand out in a fist- must have been some kind of American greeting. Eventually Hikaru copied it, and Jenny bumped fists.

“I pick next? Nice boy with headphones,” Jenny added, after her applause died down.

“Well, that was fortuitous, erm, give me a moment.” With some twisting and grunting, K1-b0 wobbled up to his feet, and then looked down and noticed his folder was still on the floor.

“I… I can’t bend…” he muttered, helpless. Rei, the braided girl from earlier, handed him up his sheet.

“Apologies for the ruse,” K1-b0 started, pulling off a glove to reveal a metallic hand, and using the fabric to wipe away greasepaint off his face reveling his facial markings. “For a moment, it was nice to be seen as human, albeit a weird one.”

“You… are K1-b0?” Jenny asked.

“I am. And my sheet is a bit different. I do not have a persona as you do, I suppose because my AI already is one. I will simply have the memories of this time, the facility here and so forth, partitioned off and inaccessable. I will know who and what I am, just think I was kidnapped with everyone else. While all of you go through the memory implant process, I will help the staff with any needed gophering or caretaking.”

“I just figured someone was going to **_think_** they’re a robot, that’s so cool!” piped up an alto sounding voice from a short-haired brunette. “You don’t have someone named Miu on your sheet, do you?”

“I do, yes, this is you?”

“Yep, Iruma Miu, genius girl inventor, at your service,” she perked.

“You should go after me, then,” K1-b0 replied brightly. “The other possible relationships are with Akamatsu Kaede, Angie as you heard before, as well as the two gentlemen Ouma Kokichi and… erm, a name we’ve heard a lot of, Shuichi Saihara.”

Mild giggling erupted as everyone clapped for K1-b0. He wobbled, trying to bend to sit down on the floor again, before Keisuke rushed over and gripped him.

K1-b0’s face glowed pink as he was gently lowered down. “You need to remember to oil your knees, we’re not always going to do it for you,” Keisuke chided.

“Well, I can and will,” the girl who would be Miu said, jumping up. “Just call me Ace, I’m from Ikebukuro and I used to do a lot of skateboarding. Bit washed up now, cancer recovery is a bitch.”

There it was- Daisuke was wondering when someone would pipe up about that.

“Heyyyy, you too?” asked a quiet kid who’d rolled his sickness mask back over his face the minute he’d finished eating. “Erm, then this is coming off, if nobody cares.” He reached toward his head, pulling hard, and yanked off his long black wig. “Sorry, sis is a cosplayer and I felt embarrassed coming here with a shaved head.”

“Ack, it’s too shiny, my eyes!” Ichiro cried, pretending to shield his face from the boy’s bald scalp.

The bald boy picked up the wig by the ponytail, whirled it over his head like a discus, and tossed it right at Ichiro’s face.

“Iz enn mah mouf,” Ichiro whined.

“Serves you right, jerk,” Ace said, though playfully. “Enjoy your dessert. Anyway. Inventor, bit crazy, okay, lots crazy, told the writers they could go nuts, I probably don’t have much left in me anyway, might as well go out with a bang, y’know? I’m also going to be the one looking after **_you_** , K1-b0, it’ll be nice to actually have some brains for once. Other than K1-b0, and that same name from his?” she looked in K1-b0’s direction for acknowledgement,  “–his- sheet, Ouma, I’m also apparently ready and willing for earlier-mentioned Tsumugi and, uh, the luckiest and/or unluckiest man on the planet. You know him, you **_apparently_** all love him, the gent who makes your panties wet…. Saaaaaihara Shuichi!”

Peals of laughter and clapping as Ace curtsied and sat down. “Aww, sounds like keratin isn’t what’s for dinner.”

“Fuck you, and nobody asked me my favorite hobbies.” Ichiro mock pouted.

“Well, what are they?” K1-b0 asked, inquisitively.

“See? **_Someone’s_** polite. Fishing. I’m a fucking old man, you guys, I like fishing.”

“You sure it wasn't fisti-nggggh!” Ace cried to a faceful of wig. “I deserved that, and I do not regret any moment that led up to it,” she added, once she’d shooed Ichiro away. “Okay, see, I want to flush out this Saihara, so we need to pick on some more guys. Hey, Mister Giant, you’re up. I’d hit it.”

“Us,” Toshiro said, as both he and Keisuke stood. “You all heard about what happened with Yusuke, yeah? Both of us are getting his character, whoever takes it better will be in the game. We’re the ones with Gonta, who’s an entomologist.”

“A what?” Ace asked.

“Bug expert.”

“So token nerd?” Hikaru asked, pulling her knees in and looking up at the taller of the two boys. “Um… I hate to ask, but… I don’t really feel comfy with someone who’s that much older being a possible relationship.”

“You’re seventeen, right? I’m nineteen, just an underclassman,” Toshiro replied. “That's not a problem for anyone, is it?”

“I’ll be eighteen next week, what about him-?” Himiko replied. “I think I’m the oldest of everyone who’s not you two.”

“You’re older than me…” Keisuke muttered.

“Wait, **_what_**?”

“I graduated high school when I was 14, finished college this year. I’m 17, just started grad school,” he supplied quietly.

“You’re an **_actual_** **_Ultimate_**?” Himiko’s jaw dropped. “Ugh, talk about robbing the cradle.”

Keisuke turned away. “S-sorry…? I’m the youngest, it’s easier to implant if your brain’s not done developing yet…”

“Ah, no, it’s… you’re just giant. I’m sorry!”

“Yeah, you’re like, actually twice my height,” added in an incredibly short boy with a buzz cut who was sitting next to whom Daisuke was sure was Rantaro. His hair had grown a little long, showing black roots, and he was in a massive oversized hoodie, and something about the face… but the greenish-blonde hair gave it away.

“Oh, our names are Toshiro and Keisuke. We go to Todai if that wasn't apparent. Other than babysitting K1-b0, I like playing video games, though the two of us usually end up playing together anyway. Erm, not that way.” Most people giggled a little. “Keisuke?”

“Baking. Though K1-b0 taught me, not the other way ‘round. I didn’t have much of a social life till recently anyway…”

“Oh, and relationships, yeah?” Toshiro asked. “That’s Himiko and Angie, which you already knew about, plus Tojo Kirumi- don’t think we’ve heard that name yet, have we?- Kaede, who we’ve heard of but don’t know and, uh, well, apparently everybody’s hot for Mister Popularity. Look, I just want to find out who Romeo is, and its not Rantaro. We’re running out of guys here. Pipsqueak?”

“Which one?” asked the shorter boy. “Because it’s not me. I’m Hoshi Ryoma. Or, well, I will be. Tennis Pro.”

“Ugh, ruining the maaaagic,” Ichiro whined.

“Yeah, I’m going to side with Ichiro, stand up,” Toshiro chided, as he and Keisuke sat to applause.

“Name’s Jun. I’m from Oosaka, don’t mind the accent. I work part time at the aquarium in the mascot costume. Hard to find people who are short enough to fit. Apparently…” Jun started as he stifled laughter, “my character killed someone in the mafia by like, hitting them with a concrete tennis ball? I don’t know man, whoever wrote this was high as a kite. Read it later if…” he kept laughing, holding his sheet out face-front. “you need a good chuckle. I’ll have fun with it at least. Possible romance is just Kirumi and, um.”

“It’s Saihara, isn’t it?” K1-b0 asked.

“It’s fucking Sai- ** _harem_**. Which one of you two is it, huh? Other short stack, stand up. I want to know who I’ll be making out with.”

Daisuke stood up with a flourish, saluted Ichiro and struck a pose.

[“Oh god, not you too,”] Jenny said, putting her head between her hands. [“And I liked you! You’re cute and speak English!”]

“Ahem! My minions!”

Ai began laughing like crazy.

“Listen well, for I am Daisuke of Kobe, the nerdiest! And I shall ride up and become your ultimate Supreme Leader, ruler of the shadow organization known as DICE, over 10,000 members strong! The world is under my th-“

“You have to be shitting me,” Ichiro groaned. “Lemme see that sheet.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Daisuke said, snapping back out of his over-acting. Here you go, its Ultimate Supreme Leader…. **_Ouma_** **_Kokichi_**!”

“ ** _You’re_** Ouma?” Ace cried. “Please tell me you’re over fifteen.”

“Seventeen next month.”

Ace tilter her head side to side. “I can work with that, you’re kinda cute.”

“I can’t believe this is his fucking sheet. Dude’s gonna murder us all,” Ichiro grumbled, passing it down.

“Would I lie to you?” Daisuke asked. “And, as you can see, I’ve got three possible partners. Miu and K1-b0 as we know, and…”

“Saihara Shuichi”, everyone said collectively, before bursting out laughing.

“Of course a supervillain would have a genius inventor and a robot as love partners,” said a quiet girl sitting next to Rei. She looked like a gymnast.

“Which only leaves me one thing to do. Ignore the last guy in the room who **_isn’t_** the Ultimate Survivor- uh, sorry Rantaro-kun-”

“No offense taken, I’m still under the memory wipes, so I have no idea who I am anyway. You all would probably know more than me,” Rantaro replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I can tell you what I remember, but since it’s between seasons I at least know its fake. Sorry for not standing.”

 “Nah, though you should get up at some point and tell us about yourself, fake or not, you’ve still got something, right?” Daisuke asked, and Rantaro smiled a little. ”Anyway, I’m ignoring Baldy McMaskerface and asking this lovely lady with a hat on her butt to stand up.”

“Um.” Ai started as the clapping for Daisuke died down. “hi? I…” Ai was fidgeting with her brothers hat, rolling it along the belt like a track, sounding uncharacteristically nervous. “I… I’m this season’s detective. Oh, yeah. I’m Ai, also Kobe. Daisuke and I are friends, but considering I’m a detective and he’s a… really I can’t believe they made you a supervillain, did someone on the writing staff steal your comics?... well, I doubt we’d collude during the game, anyway. My favorite hobby is hanging out and playing Yu-gi-oh cards with my brother, who’s stuck inside or in the hospital most of the time. I have a pretty mean stall deck. Anyway, my character doesn’t really have much of a crazy backstory, and solved their first major case by chance so, as far as Ultimates go, its pretty weak. So um… yeah. Ultimate Detective.”

“Oh, and you all might want to check your sheets, because I’m playing Shuichi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Title: The Saiharem
> 
> Discuss.


	10. Acceptance

You could hear a pin drop.

"So... what... your character is a girl, pretending to be a boy?" Ichiro finally articulated. "They've done cross-dressers before."

"No," Ai replied. "That's what I figured as well. Remember this is a psyche experiment. When I'm Shuichi, I'll think I'm a boy. Not a girl pretending to be one."

"But what about, uh, y'know?" Ichiro asked, his face a little red, as he gestured to his chest and between his legs awkwardly.

"We'll all be doing our makeup first thing in the mornings... all of us, yes, even you too- we'll be on camera- and then when we leave our bathrooms, a memory light will be triggered, so we remember what we just did as just using the toilet or something, not realizing we've done our faces. I'll be putting on... other stuff as part of that routine. They said I'll think I have a bad scar on my back so I won't want to take off my tank top under my shirt in front of people." Ai shrugged. "If I were playing a cross dressing character they wouldn't have a memory light triggered by pushing the bathroom door outwards like everyone else. My character would know they're dressing up if that's how they're written."

Ai said this matter-of-factly, crossing her arms in front of her chest when done.

"Jeez, shit, you're okay with that?" Ace asked. "I mean, my characters pretty effed up but-"

"I mean, other than that, Shuichi is just a polite, mild kid. Boring in comparison, really. Everyone else is a romantic interest because they're really not sure how this would work- if it would- and are just throwing shit on the wall. If the dysmorphia is too great they can retcon I'm just a crossdresser. We signed on as test subjects, don't forget that. Or **_do_** , in this case."

"That's why you spent so long in there?" Daisuke hissed as Ai sat down to silence. 

Before she could answer, Ichiro piped in. "Are you really okay with that?"

"Oh, so murdering someone or getting killed is a-ok, having your entire self overwritten is totes fine but changing genders is where you draw the line?"

"My character is way more fucked up than yours," the bald guy piped up. "Honestly between the two, I think I'd rather have gotten a girl. Either way, if you're okay with it, so am I."

"I mean, have you seen my sheet? I'm a homicidal super villain, guys. Which sounds cool on paper, sure, but if I do murder and get caught, I'll **_die_**. There won't be a **_me_** to wake up to, after it's over, that's it, I'm gone."

Daisuke kept his mouth shut about his actual propensity to kill, but the point was made. Silence crept in among everyone as the horror set in.

"We didn't clap for Ai," K1-b0 said, breaking that silence; it was though a weight had lifted.

"Hell, I'm dying soon anyway," Ace said with a smile. "I hope you're a good kisser," she added, clapping, inciting everyone to join in.

"Shuichi has to like you, y'know," Ai joked. "Not everyone on my list is high. Gonta is just ‘possible, same with Korekiyo, which by process of elimination is probably you, right?” she added, pointing to the kid in the sickness mask.

“Yeah.”

“Hey, Rantaro-kun, why don’t you stand up, though? Just because we know your talent doesn’t mean you can’t say a little about yourself.”

“Ah- sure. Thanks.” Rantaro got to his feet. “So, ahh, since I’m the Ultimate Survivor, they’re keeping me wiped right now. I saw the last two groups that finished, it looks like you snap out in a few days, so um, I’d like to tap out after this game, so please, I just hope if we decide to spare the mastermind I don’t go another round. I’m… tired. And uh, yeah, look at my hair and face. It’s weird being between seasons. When you’re in the game, you’re not really like… awake until after you’ve done your makeup. You just forget you’ve gotten dressed and stuff. If someone knocks on your door, you’ll be in bed one moment, and fully dressed answering it the next. It’s just… it's a weird feeling and of everything that happens, even more than… the murders, it's the most out of place thing that will happen, it’s just off. Your sense of time gets a bit lost.”

“Um… me though? It’s weird speaking in third person like this, but I know I’m not Amami Rantaro, just… I don’t know who I am or anything about the **_real_** me. Rantaro was the Ultimate Travel Writer in season 51… I don’t really lose my skills of writing and exploring but they don’t really matter that much when you’re locked up somewhere, other than being a decent conversationalist. I don’t have to do too much to get thrown back fully as my character, so I’ll probably be helping everyone cope with the memory wipes.”

“It doesn’t hurt, but I expect at least half of you to be throwing up… a lot, or feeling really dizzy. Don’t feel bad about asking for a massage, either- you’re not going to be in pain, but you might feel like pulled taffy or get a few migraines. They should subside after the first few days, and then not happen at all. After a while, someone could just sneak up on you, shine one of those lights at you, and you can just keep walking, like nothing’s happened, but you just… know stuff you didn’t before. Really, though, like Ai said. We signed on as test subjects and part of that contract is getting the comforts we need. Take advantage of that- this process **_isn’t_** fun. If you’ve got food or games you like, hobbies, whatever, if they don’t specifically override them you’ll still have them. Ask the staff for whatever you want, there’s a game room, a kitchen, an art room, an AV room, and other stuff in here, and if you want to go learn Arduino or something ask the robotics team. Basically, if you want an ice cream sundae at 3AM, **_someone’s_** going to bring it to you, so long as you’re not specifically being asked to do something testing related. While we all can, have fun, and try to stay sane. Oh, and because it’ll come up, relationship possibilities are Shuichi, Kaede, Maki, Tsumugi- and Rantaro has a bit of a sister complex… um, not in that way. Just, if you’re a girl, and you’re shorter than me, I’ll probably be… big brotherly? I wish I had a better word for it.”

Rantaro sat down to clapping, and Daisuke caught sight of the staff that were hiding in the back corner of the great room, observing quietly. It seemed like they were waiting for an opportune time to clear away everyone’s low tables of finished food (well, save K1-b0’s, left untouched). “Yo,” Daisuke called out. “Testing what Rantaro said. Can we get some dessert over here?”

“What would you like, Daisuke-kun?” Arukawa-sensei asked, stepping out from behind a partition that looked like it led to the kitchen. She was carrying large set of interlocked room-service type trays, each with a sticky note. One he could read- Iidabashi- these must have been the dinners for the remaining robotics team staff, though Daisuke was a bit surprised the producer-slash-scientist was delivering them herself. Despite their circumstances, Arukawa seemed… motherly. He kept going back to that word in his mind. It was clear that Arukawa had an extremely vested interest in the project, and that she specifically was running it.

"Um..." Daisuke felt like a dog that managed to catch its tail and didn't know what to do with it. "Um.. dessert bar? Everyone probably likes different stuff."

"Ice cream with mochi?" Hikaru asked.

"Brownies!" Jenny cried out. "Ummmmm... please?"

"Red bean soup?" asked Ichiro.

"God, you really are a fucking old man, Ichi-tan," Ace laughed. "I could also go for ice cream."

"Would it be too much trouble to just ask for a sundae bar so everyone could have what they want?" piped up a girl who hadn't yet spoken.

"On it," replied one of the staff, relieved to actually get an answer. "Give us thirty minutes or so?"

"Enough time to finish, then?" asked the girl. She wore embroidered chinos and a V-neck top with a large fabric flower at the band.

"Why don't you go next?" asked Rantaro. "Otherwise we might be here all night. Six of us haven't even spoken yet."

"Sure. I'm Ririn. One sec," she said, getting up. "I'm Tojo Kirumi, the Ultimate Maid. It usually seems like someone is proficient at the cooking or housework type stuff, so I'll go out on a limb and say that'll mostly be my job. Um.. me though, I... don't really have much in the way of hobbies or friends at home, and my family's very poor. I just want to make sure my sick mom can finally stop working for once. And if it means what it might, then I've accepted that. I'd do anything for my family, and being a dishwasher after school doesn't do enough. Thank you all, and I guess... I hope I serve you well?"

"Oh, and you already know all my relationships I think. Shuichi of course, Gonta, Rantaro, Ryoma, oh right, and because apparently we are all written as possibly liking both genders, Tsumugi."

Ririn sat quietly. "Shirogane Tsumugi is the only person on my sheet I don't know yet. Would whomever is playing her go next?"

"Right. Hi, I'm Natsuko, I like playing piano," the slightly fatter girl said, standing to her feet. "So you basically know my relationships and name, too. I'm the ultimate cosplayer, so um... I guess I won't get my mind retconned when I do my makeup if it's a character trait? I'd assume Tsumugi would know that she's putting on costumes and wigs and stuff.  I've always been a terrible seamstress in Home Ec so I'm kinda interested to see how that plays out? Um, especially since I have a really bad wool allergy. I can't even touch the stuff without getting a huge pink rash. Oh right, dating. Um... Kirumi, Rantaro, Shuichi- of course- ummm, oh and Miu and Kaito. And Korekiyo, too, that's a heck of a list. I kinda feel bad for Jun."

"Meh, I'm good either way, really. Isn't it more for the audience anyway?" he said dismissively.

"So, uh, not many people left. Sounds like we've heard everyone's names though. Who's left, Tenko, Maki, Kaede, and Korekiyo... right?"

"You said you liked playing piano, right?" a girl with long hair, tied up in a bun with a hot pink streak asked. "I'm the ultimate Pianist. Oh, shut up, it's not funny, Ichiro-kun," she added.

“Ultimate Penis’d,” Ace giggled.

"Go on!" K1-b0 said, earnestly and completely unaware of the joke.

"I'm Maiya, I'm from Nara and my family runs a shrine, so I don't really have any hobbies, I just have to work there after school and stuff. Um, my character also has a lot of relationships, and she's... um I think she's a... what's this word?"

"Nihilist," said Rei, peering over. "It means she doesn't think life has meaning. That's not necessarily a negative thing but..."

"Oh," Maiya muttered. "Um. That explains a lot. Um. Anyway. A lot of you mentioned Kaede on your sheets, and the only person I have on mine not mentioned yet is Tenko... so?"

An incredibly meek girl peeked out. She'd been so quiet and unassuming that Daisuke forgot she was even there after the headcount. 

The girl didn't speak, and just shook like a leaf, waving her hand hello best she could.

"Um, soon to be Tenko-chan?" Maiya asked. The girl bobbed her head slightly. "Do you want to stand up?"

The girl stood up, waved and smiled weakly, but made no move to speak.

"Do you want to sit back down? We can read your sheet aloud with you?"

'Tenko' shook her head no and shot back down, out of sight. 

"You did your best, that's what's important!" Ai said, beginning to clap. Everyone joined in.

'Tenko' smiled a little, pointing to the bald boy who would be Korekiyo.

"Ah, just a moment, and I'm Jiro from Sapporo. Actually, can I stay sitting? I'm not wearing my leg braces right now." The group was quiet and he continued. "So um, I like painting and chalk art. I'm pretty frail, as you can see, but clearly not as frail as a certain unnamed astronaut."

A few quiet giggles.

"My character, as you've deduced, is Shinguji Korekiyo, the Ultimate Folklorist, or really an amateur anthropologist. As someone thoroughly bored in history class I'm curious how that's going to be. Um... and he thinks his dead sister’s soul possesses him sometimes. So, yeah, um, bit creepy. I don't know how that's going to work and frankly I hope it happens after I'm 'asleep' as it were. And yeah, everybody I can date already mentioned it. So, um, yeah. That leaves...?"

"Me." Rei said, dusting off her skirt and standing. "I'm the Harukawa Maki. And my name is Rei, but um, I prefer kun. Chan sounds too... infantile. Sorry. I'd rather take no suffix than chan, thanks. Er, and then of course I'm stuck with the Ultimate Childcare Worker, which isn't much different than what I do now. Both my character and I are orphans, and we help out in our boarding schools, so um."

"Isn't someone always a control?" Daisuke asked, tilting his head. "So, I guess you're that person."

"Her personality isn't quite like mine, so, dunno. I just hope I don't get too sick. I have a heck of a gag reflex. And you all know who I can be in a relationship with, plus Tenko’s on my sheet.”

“ ** _Ahem_** ,” she added as she sat, “Ichiro-kun your character had better be a gentleman or I'll naginata you in the balls."

Ichiro looked red and pulled his legs close to his chest, as if to protect his jewels.

"Someone order dessert?” the staff cut in, wheeling in a cart set up with ice cream and toppings.

“Well, it wasn’t me,” K1-b0 said, throwing up his arms in mock disgust.

* * *

Everyone thoroughly stuffed, and Daisuke a bit sick to his stomach from the overdose of brownie bites, chocolate ice cream, walnuts, and caramel syrup, stood up to leave, until they realized that they didn’t know where to go.

“Arukawa shouldn't have taken…” Rantaro started, but the door to the great hall slid open.

“Sorry, hope you weren’t all waiting too long.

“Dude, can you just like, summon her?” Toshiro asked. Rantaro shrugged.

“I swear, it’s like she’s my mom,” Rantaro replied.

Arukawa just rubbed her forehead in mild frustration. “Okay, everyone to the dorms, yes, that includes Toshiro, Keisuke and K1-b0.”

“I do not require sleep, Arukawa-sensei. Nor is it particularly late, is it not?”

“True on both accounts, but I want everyone setting up their bunks, and getting some quiet time to unwind. There’s a common room connecting the boy’s and girl’s dorms, and you are welcome to move between them as you like, just, do me a favor and sleep in your own beds? K1-b0, I have a reclining chair with a charging dock set up for you in the boy’s side, though you’re welcome to move it where you like. And yes, Ai-chan’s bed is on the boy’s side. There’s no curfew, but I’d request until you know your way around to ask a staff member to escort you, there’s a call button in the common room and one at everyone’s bunk as well. You can have food in the common rooms, but keep it out of the actual sleeping areas, please. We’ve had rodent problems before.”

“They chewed on my charging cord…” K1-b0 said, dejected.

“Now, come on everyone, there may not be a curfew, but I’m waking everyone early tomorrow. Everyone goes for styling, and their first round of memory-lights, Rantaro, you just need a dye and trim, and K1-b0, you are exempt, though I’d appreciate it if you tag along and keep everyone company.”

“Yes, Mom,” Rantaro said, rolling his eyes.

“Understood, Professor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Rei was originally written as Kirumi, but honestly, she just made more sense as Maki. Apologies to whomever I said was wrong last chapter, as I did a bit of a swap for a later chapter to work better.
> 
> Go, you smol angry child. Ichiro deserves it.
> 
> Also, be prepared for some serious existential crises the next few chapters. I'm not sure who has it worse, the kids, Rantaro who knows he's not real, or K1-b0, who's watching everyone lose themselves, knowing for him its just going to happen with the single flick of a switch right before the show itself actually starts.


	11. Drained

Rantaro and Professor Arukawa led the way- of course Rantaro would know where he lived within the facility- the remaining sixteen taking measured pace behind, with Jiro in the rear, walking with a cane.

“This is what I get for trying to push myself,” he muttered.

“You’re not the only one with trouble standing and walking,” K1-b0 reassured him.

“That’s true, isn’t it, thank you, K1-b0,” Jiro replied.

“I’ve never been this way in here, not that I can’t stray on my own, but my balance is lacking. So, I tended to just stay in the lab,” K1-b0 added.

“I don’t think Keisuke and I have been on this side of the facility, either, Keebs,” Toshiro added. “Us robot nerds wanted to stay the hell away from this part of the building. Psyche is a soooooft science,” he added, joking. “Also I never thought I’d end up on this side of the experiment, anyway.”

“And here we are,” Arukawa gestured to a pair of double doors. “Your belongings are in storage, except for things like video games, books, et centera. There’s a chest of drawers at everyone’s bunks with clothes.”

Sixteen faces peeked in with trepidation as Rantaro himself just stepped inside. "Sorry to be a buzzkill but I'm exhausted. See you all in the morning,"

He waved gently and headed inwards and right, to a door marked with eight names in blue.

"Get yourselves settled, and buzz if you need. I think I'll follow Rantaro-kun's lead and head in early myself. Someone on staff is up 24/7, don't hesitate to call for one of us."

"Thank you," came a chorus of voices.

"Hey, hey," Hikaru asked, after looking at the girl’s side and realizing the names on the door were their characters’ names, not their own. "I don't know your real name, Tenko-chan, can you show me your sheet or should I call you Tenko?"

'Tenko' gripped her folder tightly to her chest and shook her head.

"You're doing this wrong," Natsuko chided, turning to Tenko. "Until we can talk with you, it's easier to use yes or no questions. Is that okay?"

'Tenko' nodded yes.

"Can we call you Tenko since we don't know your name?"

She nodded yes again.

"Tenko-chan?"

Another nod.

"I don't think you're deaf, but do you speak JSL?" Natsuko asked, as she moved her hands.

Tenko signed back, to stunned silence.

"She says she can hear, but can't talk," Natsuko translated to the group before turning her attention back to Tenko. "What if we got you a dry erase board? Can you write to us?" Natsuko asked aloud as she signed.

Tenko fidgeted, signing.

"It's Nao, her name is Nao, but she says since she's going to disappear because of the memory thing to just start calling her Tenko. And yes, she's willing to write to us, right?"

Tenko nodded, and Natsuko pressed the call button. "A small dry erase board, eraser and markers please?"

A moment of static. "There's a pictionary game on the games shelf- next to the TV. Should be in there."

"Thank you." Natsuko didn't even have time to finish before Hikaru was running up to the shelf and tearing through the game boxes.

"Here you go, Tenko, sorry I don't know how to sign, too."

Tenko grabbed the red marker and drew a little heart.

(Thank you,) she wrote.

Hikaru squealed and hugged her.

"Your handwriting is so goood aaaah, look at your calligraphy," come on, lets go check out the bunks." Himiko held out a hand, and Tenko capped her marker, shifting everything into one hand and taking it with the other.

She wasn't shaking anymore.

"Why don't we all have a look?" K1-b0 suggested. "So long as nobody is opposed to it. We are allowed to go in and out of the dorms, yes?"

"But it's the giii-" Hikaru started. "Wait, but if I say no I can't see the boys side. So fine. But if your names not on a door, you have to knock first before you can come in, capiche? Except Ai-chan."

"Including Ai-chan," Rei corrected. "Otherwise poor Shuichi-kun is going to get ideas once he... starts showing up."

"Point. Um, sorry Ai-chan..."

"No offense taken," Ai said with a shrug. "But you guys are going to have to deal with my snoring. Let's do the boys side first so we can give Rantaro-kun some rest?"

Ai knocked on the boys side of the dorms. "Rantaro-kun?" She pressed her ear to the door. "He says we can all come in. He's just reading."

Ai opened the boys door and blinked a little, and the rest of the group piled in. Four bunk beds, plus a recliner with a weird set of claws around where someone’s neck would go (K1-b0’s charger?), a couple of sofas, a big bookshelf, and doors marked "showers" "toilets" "changing space" sat on the back wall. Two bunk beds were on each side of the long wall, head to head, with two chests of drawers at each end of the set. No names were written, but it was pretty clear whose was whose.

"I guess this one is mine and Daisuke's," Ai commented. The upper half of the bunk had plaid sheets, and a small bookshelf bolted into the wall with a reading light. "Mystery novels gives it away, ha. And I guess these photos represent Shuichi's family?"

The lower bunk had tons of junk tacked to the wall the bunk jutted against. A clown mask, and a photo of ten people in matching white uniforms and masks, though most of them had them partially off their faces and smiling. A bunch of cyphers, hastily scrawled and tacked up with pins in the shape of dice, a whiteboard with some diagrams for a remote-controlled camera, and a printout of some code. 

"That's the source code for the virus that took down the Iranian nuclear reactors..." K1-b0 mused. "Please, I beg do not mess with my programming, though I suppose I should be asking that of Kokichi-kun and not you."

"Those are supposed to be my ringleaders?" Daisuke said, carefully removing the tack holding it in place and pulling it to him. "Everyone's young," he added, "I didn't expect them to all be kids."

"Well, you're an ultimate, so your character probably gathered them up," Rantaro supplied, resting on his bed. He was on the adjoining top bunk, his area decorated with maps and a ton of small girls. "Don't get any ideas," he said pointing to the photos, "they're supposed to be my sisters."

"Twelve though?"

"And I'm lucky 13," Rantaro replied, turning sideways. "Jun's bunk is below mine if that's not obvious."

Indeed, there was a tennis racquet hung up, and a slew of trophies topping one of the drawers sets on the far side. Daisuke noted that one of the far bunks was decorated identically top and bottom across from his with insect specimens- probably both the Gontas. No family photos though. Which meant that the final bunk with a bookcase and gilded sword on the bottom and NASA posters up top were Jiro's and Ichiro's respectively.

Daisuke went to the set of drawers that were his and Ai's. It was hard to tell from the decorations on top whose set was whose, crime novels, a small enigma machine, a luminoil kit- fine line between detective and criminal and all that. He took a gamble at the one on the right side, only to find a binder of YuGiOh cards and some case files. Nope, that one was Ai's. He opened the top shelf of the other, and found a whoopee cushion, water pistols, playing cards, handcuffs, lock picks, bobbly pins, needles, and some sleight of hand magic tricks, along with his e-reader and a Sudoku book.

Yeah, that one was his, he noted, shutting it quickly.

"Hey, Daisuke, let's give Rantaro some peace of mind, you can rifle through your stuff when we're done." Jiro smiled and pointed back to the door to the common room. 

"Yeah, sure," Daisuke said, slamming the drawer shut and hurrying to follow them. 

XXX

The girl’s side was set up like a mirror image to the boy’s, minus the recliner, and just as easy to tell whose space would be whose.

China plates and a cross stitch half in progress? Ririn, on the bottom bunk with some… very avant-garde art above it for Jenny’s artist skill.The top of their drawers were just as split between a brush rack and watercolors on one side, and cookbooks stop a doily on the other.

The next bunk was Rei and Natsuko’s- the bottom was Rei’s, and she looked taken aback.

“These aren’t staged photos. I brought these,” she said, pointing to a corkboard pinned up with photos of an orphanage full of children. “And the paper ropes and cranes were gifts from the kids.” She frowned a little, touching a daisy chain hanging from the underside of Natsuko’s bunk above hers, adorned with fairy lights, hanging over her sleeping space. “I guess I won’t be changed that much… I wonder, really.”

“You may not, but I don’t know half these anime,” Natsuko said, looking at the upper part of the bunk, plastered with anime and game references. They’d even snuck in some design documents from the first Danganronpa video game, marked up with red lines denoting where to place seams or gathers.

Facing the pair of bunks were Maiya’s and Ace’s. Maiya’s on bottom, with sheet music and concert playbills, and Ace’s even messier than Daisuke’s, her part of the wall literally invisible under half-finished invention diagrams, plus…

“Oh, those are some of my design documents,” K1-b0 noted. “Though they’re quite out of date. That is unmistakably the Professor’s handwriting- erm, Iidabashi, not Arukawa.”

And then the last bunk. Himiko’s was up top, neatly organized with posters of Houdini and other famous magicians, and a rack of small props and sleight of hand tricks, like what Daisuke found in his drawer.

Tenko’s had a Buddhist prayer book, a shelf with implements for preparing traditional green tea, and a hand-painted fan with a sutra written on it, as well as a second shelf for a small inductive incense burner like the one Daisuke had been using for memory recollection. “Tenko, are you a Buddhist nun?” Himiko asked her. Tenko shook her head no, and finally showed everyone her sheet.

“Ohhhh, aikido,” she replied knowingly. “And mostly raised in a temple.”

“I took karate as a child,” Ririn supplied. “Though I’m not sure I remember all that much.”

“Uh, don’t look at me,” Rei said, embarrassed. “I only do naginata. I don’t think polearms are in aikido, just bare hands and occasionally boken, right? Don’t worry, we’re all in this together.”

Tenko nodded, signing furiously to Natsuko.

“She’s really tired and wants to sleep. She came here all the way from Okinawa this morning.”

“Um, hey, Tenko-chan? This might be a weird request, but can I use your incense and burner? I pray for my parents every night,” Daisuke asked a bit sheepishly. It wasn’t untrue, he just had ulterior motives.

“Our stuff’s ours for a reason, I’d buzz the staff and ask if you can get your own,” Toshiro replied. “And honestly, after today, I just want a hot shower and sleep, too.”

“Oh yeah, point,” Hikaru mentioned, before climbing up her bunk and pressing her own button.

“Hikaru-chan?” the other end asked.

“How did you kno- wait it’s my bunk, uh, can I get a sign language book please?”

“You’ll have it in the morning, is that okay?”

“Uh, wow, yeah.” She turned to face everyone. “I guess Rantaro wasn’t joking around. I’m going to shower and rest too, can we kick out the boys for now?”

“Slumber party?” Ririn asked.

“Sounds good by me,” Maiya agreed. “Gentlemen, shoo, we’re having girl time.”

Ai bowed, unhooking her brother’s hat from her belt to put it on her head and tip it. “I take my leave, fair ladies.”

* * *

Ichiro groaned looking in the direction of Daisuke and Ai’s bunk. “See, now, we can’t do anything fun,” he muttered.

“Look, I’m going to take a shower, you can take care of yourself and talk about sports or whatever machismo thing you expect to do,” Ai hissed back. “If you’re going to complain, do it quieter. Rantaro-kun is asleep already and Toshiro and Jun just told you they’re hitting the hay once they’re done. She opened and closed the left hand drawers, then the right.

“Right’s yours, my tablet’s in the left set,” Daisuke said, laying on his bed and looking at one of the ciphers tacked to his part of the wall, before pressing his own button to ask for incense.

“S-sorry, but your character doesn’t have anyone close to them that passed away, so it would contradict your character once you… converted over. If someone who has a character that lost a family member wanted to pray together, that would work, if you wanted.”

“Jiro-kun, you said your character’s sis is dead, right?” Daisuke hissed so as not to wake Rantaro. **_Tactlessly_** hissed, but still.

“You can pray with me, I should probably learn how,” he hissed back.

“Jiro-kun’ll help,” he supplied back to the intercom.

“Fair, we’ll leave it in the common room.”

“Thanks, Jiro-kun,” Daisuke said, once he’d ended the call. Ai had already headed to shower, and Daisuke rifled through his own chest of drawers for pajamas to do the same.

None of the clothes were his. On a hunch, he peeked at the drawers on the right side. The top drawer, as he’d seen earlier, was hobby type stuff.

Yeah, they’d given Ai jeans, slacks, button downs- guy’s clothes. No wonder she’d been flipping through them both trying to figure out what was hers. He shut her drawers closed, and went back into his for something to sleep in. Clearly Kokichi was a sharper dresser than he was, or at the very least, could afford better clothes.

The showers were private, completely sealed off mini rooms, with a shower and a drying area, plus a giant open onsen style tub in the back, which, to his surprise, K1-b0 was in the process of filling.

“Who wanted a bath?” Daisuke asked.

“I did. Heat expands metal and I can’t move my knee properly to oil it. I’m rated IP 6X apart from ingression via mouth- erm, I’m waterproof if I keep my mouth shut.”

“….huh.”

“Care to join me? Hot water is relaxing for people, no?”

“I need to get cleaned off first, if I did. I’m not going to dirty up fresh bathwater.”

“Oh… I did not realize you are supposed to wash prior to bathing, I’ll need to find some isopropyl and a rag…”

“Well, you don’t sweat, do you? Just I dunno, put your legs in to heat up, it’s not like you get dirty the same way we do…”

“No, if you’re supposed to wash before entering, the same rules ought to apply to me. I guess I’ll have to do this tomorrow. I could still have bacteria or dirt on my chassis too, you know…” K1-b0 almost sounded like he wanted to get dirty the same way humans did. Daisuke actually felt bad for suggesting he just use the tub.

“Why don’t you ring the staff for some? If that's how you wash yourself there’s probably already some in here.”

“Oh! I didn’t even think to look!” K1-b0 sounded excited, as he ran with a start, wobbled, and tripped. Dausuke flung his head to the sound of the crash.

“…help…”

* * *

Keisuke had to haul K1-b0 off the floor and onto his charging dock, and once K1-b0’s head was clamped in place, Keisuke pressed down hard on the back of his neck. K1-b0 went limp immediately, the light in his eyes going out completely.

“Sleep mode? Does K1-b0 sleep?” Daisuke asked, concerned.

“No, I shut him off. He was starting to panic again. Let him charge. I’d rather have the Professor look at his knee. Personally, I don’t think he’s ready yet. His fine motor skills are good, his ambulation needs work. Go shower, and go to bed. His AI is back on in the lab no doubt, but he can’t panic enough to fry the supercomputer in there. It’ll give him some time to chill out,” Keisuke’s words were measured. “Look, he even has a hunk of bathroom tile lodged in his thigh. He’s like my little brother. I know he can’t feel physical pain, but he can worry, and when he worries, I do too.”

As if on cue, the call button in the corner- Daisuke assumed it was meant for K1-b0 to reach even while in his dock, lit up.

“K1-b0 is back in the computer, what happened?” asked a feminine voice.

“Hey Mori-chan, he fell and busted up his leg. I turned him off so he wouldn’t short circuit,” replied Keisuke. “let him cool off in there for a while?”

“It’s that bad?” K1-b0’s voice, a bit canned and far off.

“It’s easily fixed but everyone is tired, K1-b0, and I don’t want to mess it up.”

“I… do tend to overreact a little,” K1-b0’s voice said. “If I promised to stay in my dock, could you turn me back on?”

“No moving around, no panicking, and then yes. I can get you a reading tablet or a handheld game console to play while we sleep.”

“I… I’d appreciate that.”

“Hang on, I’m powering you up and…” Keisuke pressed hard on K1-b0’s off switch. His eyes flickered to white, before the pupils and irises loaded in. “…there. You throw a tantrum like a toddler. I know you’re only about four, but you need to reign it in a little.”

K1-b0’s face glowed red.

“But, hey, that means you’re expressing your emotions like a human does. But the difference between a little kid and an adult is knowing how to correctly manage those feelings. You’re not going to mature as an AI if you can’t.”

K1-b0’s face grew redder. “So that was… like a human?”

“Exactly like one. But a preschooler. You can get upset, or angry, or both at once, but you need to manage it, too.”

“I… I will!” K1-b0 replied brightly, before a pillow was thrown in their direction.

Ichiro groaned. “Didn’t someone earlier tell me to tone it down? Now I’m trying to sleep and you keep yapping.”

“Oh, sorry, Ichiro-kun, I’ll cease talking. May… may I have something to do while I wait?”

“Let me get you my reading tablet,” Daisuke said, dropping his still unused pajamas on a sofa and grabbing it for him.

Yawning, he passed K1-b0 the device, picked up his clothes, and finally made his way to the shower.

 ** _One hell of a day_** , he thought as Ai and Toshiro came out of the shower room, completely unaware.

“Who half-filled the tub?” Ai hissed at Daisuke.

“Just… don’t ask, I’ll drain it.”


	12. Pinpointing the Precise Moment His Heart Breaks in Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may as well ask- I know a lot of you have spotted formatting errors, spelling errors, and inconsistencies. I'm blind, and so editing is a pain in the butt. I'd love the help of an editor or beta reader, so if anyone's interested, I'd appreciate that.

"Ngh!"

Daisuke shot up, soaking wet.

"You brought squirt guns? I saw them when I was trying to find PJ's last night."

Ai. Had shot him. The **_nerve_**! He laughed aloud. Turnabout was only fair.

"Nah, they're Kokichi's, not mine. Ugh, where are my glasses?"

"Did you sleep with them on?" Ai asked.

"No, but I don't have an end table so... oh right." Daisuke fumbled with the tacked on plastic clown mask on his wall. "I put them in here so I wouldn't roll on them. Holy-"

Daisuke blinked the crust out of his eyes. Ai's hair wasn't cut much shorter than it already was, but it was styled in more of a bowl, dyed a navy-black. Her features were more pale, and did they actually give her false eyelashes? She was wearing a sweater vest over a white button down, with a tie and khakis. And yes, she absolutely passed as a boy, although Daisuke was surprised about the false lashes and eyeliner.

"Um, you know your eyes are yellow now, right?" Daisuke sputtered.

"I love that's the first thing you notice," Ai replied. "I've never worn contacts before."

"Did they show you how to- oh, we'll probably just learn that won't we? Um... did I oversleep?"

"Well, yeah but that's cause they let you. We're going three at a time, they're on the third group now. So up, get yourself some breakfast. There's a carafe of okayu in the common room, though Jenny asked for pancakes instead."

"Okay, getting up, hang on. You... maybe it's because I'm barefoot but are you taller?"

"I took my shoes of at the entrance to the dorm so, no, it's that the binder is forcing me upright, I didn't realize this would help with posture. I can't really slouch."

"Are you... comfortable?" Daisuke asked as he hunted through his drawers. "And do they care what I pick?"

"No, you'll get your character's uniform that they think they were kidnapped in, and their costume for the show to try. That'll go back and get tailored. And I wouldn't say comfortable, but it isn't bad."

"Have you... did you get your first wipe already?"

"No, I switched time slots for that with Ichiro. I wanted to go under with you."

"Oh. Um. I guess... well... is K1-b0 still in his charger?"

"No, they moved him by the time I was done with wardrobe. Why?"

"Arukawa said I could share something with you. Um... the character sheet I showed everyone last night, it's... it's fake."

"Wait, what? How?"

"I don't have the real one, they made me give it back so I couldn't share it or have it seen by anyone. But Arukawa knew I'd probably tell you anyway and gave me explicit permission."

"I'm still playing a 17 year old named Ouma Kokichi but he's not a super villain.. um, my ultimate skill is actually Ultimate Liar and Prankster. Oma runs DICE, but they're just ten teenagers that are really good at harmless pranks. That's why there's squirt guns and stuff in my drawer."

"And your character's likelihood to kill?"

"It's literally the lowest in the cast. It said on my sheet a core tenant of DICE was no prank could include theft, and no lasting damage to people or stuff. Kokichi's group didn't bomb the White House, they **_yarn_** -bombed it. Like when you knit a giant art sculpture around something without anyone knowing. That kind of stuff. That's why a Supreme leader had lock picking puzzles, and I'll assume I'll learn some sleight-of-hand tricks too."

"So then... all we need to do is not get murdered, they still gave me the typical 'detective doesn't murder' bit, my character is literally just the most basic detective they could make, it's who they put it on that they're looking at."

"My characters going to be a giant pain in the ass, though," Daisuke said, flinging his nightshirt to the ground and buttoning up a purple dress shirt. "Er, whoops, force of habit. Living in a guys dorm like this for years, there's no privacy."

"I'll probably have to get used to it anyway. So we just need to keep each other alive. Watch my back, I watch yours?" Ai held out her pinky.

"Pinky promise it is," Daisuke replied, hooking his with hers.

"Thanks for telling me, Daisuke."

"I'll keep telling you until I'm not Daisuke anymore."

"Go eat, it's going to be a long day. And stick to bland stuff."

"Yes mom," Daisuke joked, before Ai gripped him by the shoulders and pulled him in for a bear hug.

* * *

Daisuke squirmed as the stylist touched his hair. It wasn't unpleasant, but he'd never gone for an actual haircut before. Usually when it got too long, he just hacked at it until it wasn't.

"Whoever does this normally doesn't know what they're doing. Let's get it cleaned up. I'm giving you extensions, too, not long, but your hair is all over the place."

"Extensions?" Daisuke asked curiously. "And, um, I usually do it. I don't have a lot of spending money to spare."

"Weaving in extra, fake hair, and oh, I'm sorry Daisuke-kun. Have you never gotten your hair cut by someone else before?"

"Probably when I was real little but..."

"Relax. You're in good hands, I promise. I'm going to dye it first, so you'll be sitting around for a bit without your glasses, though."

"What color?" Daisuke asked, curiously.

"A se-cret," she replied, with a grin.

* * *

Daisuke sat impatiently, his hair in clumps, wrapped in tinfoil. He probably looked ridiculous. He heard heavy footfalls, turning towards the sound to see a blurred shape in khakis and a white button down.

"Ai-chan?"

"Is your vision really that poor without correction?" K1-b0 asked. "And may I come in?"

"Sure, I'm stuck here with nothing to do until that timer goes off." Daisuke squinted. "In my defense, you and Ai are wearing nearly the same thing today."

"Oh, did they dye her hair white, too? I saw Jenny this morning."

"Erm, no, it's a really dark blue..."

K1-b0 made a strained sound like a servo spinning too fast, then a moment later, articulated a "ha!".

"You can sit down, you know, I feel like you're hovering," Daisuke said, craning his neck slightly up.

"I can't, actually. They took the tile out of my leg and cleaned it up, but now the robotics team is having a meeting to see if they can do another redesign to my ambulatory system. I was told not to sit or lie down for now so as not to overextend the joint. I... I think after you and Ace are put under a few times they want you both to take a look at it. That's why i stopped by. That and to apologize for my behavior last night."

"I- no need, K1-b0, you're still learning. And I get Ace, but why me?"

"My code, I know I already have a delay in reactions from interfacing through my chassis. They'll partition off a copy but they said if they have to threaten your character to help, they will."

"That- um, I hope it's not necessary."

"As long as Kokichi doesn't try and stick a virus in me... I trust you, Daisuke-kun, but I'm nervous handing that kind of thing over to... whatever you'll become."

"K1-b0, Arukawa-sensei is going to murder me, but... you only saw half my information. I had a second sheet I wasn't allowed to share. I'll put it this way- I can guarantee you Kokichi won't do anything malicious to your code. He might be a jerk to you, but..." Daisuke searched for the words to put K1-b0 at ease. "he really really likes robots. He's not going to mess with you."

 ** _At least not in a way that would hurt you_** , Daisuke added in thought. **_Though I would be shocked if Kokichi didn't stick in something stupid, like K1-b0 quacking every time he tried to say the word cheese._**

"Ahh, so he's a... what's the word Mori-chan used? A tsundere."

"Okay, that's it, out, Mister," Daisuke said, in clear mock anger. 

"Fiiiine, I'll go where I'm waaaanted," K1-b0 snapped back.

"Wait, you know I was joking, right?"

"As was I," he replied with a wave of his hand to near perfect timing to the sound of the timer.

* * *

"Um, let me get you a booster seat..." Daisuke's head was over a weirdly shaped sink, but it hurt. Another reminder about his height. A plastic seat later and Daisuke was leaning comfortably, if not awkwardly.

Again, the stylist was touching his hair. Daisuke squirmed.

"You've never been shampooed before have you?"

"I wash my hair."

"No, I mean like this."

"Yeah it's really weird."

"Well, I need to get the dye out, but it it's uncomfortable I'll try and be quick. Most people like this."

"No, it's just... weird. I'll try and sit still."

"Nobody's ever given you this much attention before, have they?" She asked, as she turned on the tap. "Tell me if it's too hot."

"It's fine and... no. No, I haven't and no, the water is fine."

"Most of the kids who come through here are like that. I work in a salon at the train station, six times a year they call some of us out here to make everyone over."

"Do you watch the show?"

"Only the first episode of the season. Before a murder occurs. I only get a glimpse of who everyone was like, and I guess it's a morbid curiosity."

"You said six times a year. I thought it only had three seasons."

"At the end of a taping, too, so anyone wants to get rid of their style from the show. At the very least, most people have to have their hair dyed back to a realistic color for school, except the- erm. Nevermind."

"You walked down that tunnel, you need to finish," Daisuke chided.  "And this is... kinda nice."

"Well, some people want to completely keep their old personas," she said, though it sounded like she was covering up a slip. "Remember if you're a survivor you're allowed to do that, cash in on your fame and all that."

Daisuke imagined Ai choosing to stay as Saihara permanently. It... honestly sounded like something she'd do. Or he'd do, Daisuke mentally corrected.

Whatever the decision, all Daisuke knew was that the two of them had to win.

* * *

Daisuke didn't realize he'd fallen asleep during his haircut until he awoke with a start to the sound of a blow dryer in his ear. "Gah!"

"Just about done," she said over the sound of the dryer. "I tried to wake you but you were out like a light. Just need to blow dry and give you a little gel, okay?"

Again, her hands danced over his head and all he could think about was Ai playing with his hair. Even though, now, it was the vision of Ai from that morning. Daisuke didn't care, either way, at the core, it was still his friend.

"Aaand done," she said, shutting off the dryer.

"Can I have my glasses back?"

"Nuh-uh, you get prescription colored contacts. You don't have much makeup, let me follow the diagram and get them in, and then you can take a look."

"Gah, I really don't like things near my eyes."

"Nobody does, now sit still for a few. This should be pretty quick."

* * *

"Okay, all good," she said, finished. "Your two costumes are in the attached changing room. Put whichever you want on first, call for help if you need it. I think your main costume has some really weird snaps if you want help learning how to close it. I'm taking my break but holler if you need me, okay? The seamstress just finished with Hikaru-chan."

"Yes'm."

The stylist walked out with a gentle wave and Daisuke stretched. The room he was in had the mirror covered, hopefully the one in the changing room-

Oh.

Daisuke stepped forward gingerly to look at his face in the gigantic floor to ceiling mirror. His hair was a little longer- extensions, he supposed, though he'd napped through most of it- and a dull shade of purple at the top, ending in neon violet tips. Purple eyes, too. He considered changing his shirt once he got back to the dorms.

His skin was a lot paler, and the bags under his eyes from too many late nights reading vanished. He looked... even younger than he already was, and that was saying something. It was almost doll-like, but it wasn't feminine.

He turned his attention to two piles of clothes on the small table in the corner, shucking off what he was wearing. The left pile looked like a pretty standard high-collared black school uniform. What "Kokichi" would have been "kidnapped" in.

A pale purple T shirt, the gakuran, black slacks, plain shoes. Daisuke looked at himself in the mirror, a part of his hair flopping down onto his nose. It was gelled, so intentional. He put everything on, careful not to disturb whatever went on his face.

He looked like a middle schooler. He definitely wouldn't have recognized himself, and none of his classmates would have either.

 ** _What if that was the point?_** It made sense- they did an incredible job keeping the characters very separate from the kids who played them. The only reason he found Momo was through some less-than-conventional means and he knew precisely what he was looking for. She could just go home to her old life, few people the wiser.

...what if _**everyone**_ did?

Momo was always very evasive about the deceased on the show, and for that matter, Rantaro never actually brought it up either. He said "the murders" but not "the dead".

They talked about survivors this, and survivors that... and the highest possible probability of death. Not the lowest.

The show itself never showed murders- executions, sure, but those were extremely theatrical. Bodies were just...found.

Daisuke was becoming quietly convinced that **_everyone_** was a survivor.

But that didn't mean he was right. He'd keep his mouth shut, prepare for the worst...

and hope for the best.

A rap on the door. "Daisuke-kun?"

"I'm dressed," he replied.

An older woman opened it and nodded. "Looks good. Arms out please? Hm, yes. This doesn't need any alterations. Can you try on your other costume please?"

"Sure," he said, as the woman saw herself out and shut the door.

Carefully, he took off the schoolclothes and looked to the second pile. White low-rise jeans with straps at the thighs. And... that was a straight jacket, wasn't it? Someone his size would look utterly ridiculous in something like that. He put on the plain t-shirt to be worn under, the pants, and then stared confused at the jacket.

"Erm, little help please?" Daisuke called out.

"Certainly, sweetie," came the voice of the older woman. "May I?"

"Yeah,"

"Oh, yes, this is a bit confusing. So there's a hidden zipper here, two snaps here, and, there. It looks like this is good too, do you want to try it with everything? There's still a bandana, hat, and cape."

"I get a cape?" Daisuke asked.

"Well, you are an ultimate supervillain, what kind of evil mastermind doesn't have a cape?" It was funnier coming from the mouth of an older woman.

"I can't argue with that logic."

"Back when I was your age, I'd go down to Tokyo a few times a year to get any Spider-Man comics I could. They still make those?"

Daisuke's jaw dropped. "Ma'am, when I'm done here, boy do I have something to show you."

* * *

"Purple looks good on you," Ai said with a nod.

"I... guess, okay, yeah. It does."

"Better on you than on Ichiro-kun, what the hell did they do to his hair?" she added with a whisper, pointing to the corner of the common room. Ichiro was seated in the corner on a sofa near the TV, dazed, and looked a little drugged.

"What, he didn't take it well?"

"Reverse, he walked himself over here without any help, he's just... not all back yet. Jenny's in the infirmary, she's throwing up."

"We only get little bits at a time, though, right? Does he... know who he is?"

"Dunno."

"It's... kinda scary," Daisuke replied.

"I think I'd be way worse if I hadn't met Momo-chan first, though."

Ai squeezed his hand. "No matter what I do to you, you'll be my friend," he whispered.

"Always."

"Ai-chan, Daisuke-kun, Hikaru-chan, please be ready to be escorted to the memory room in five minutes," sounded the intercom.

Hikaru poked her head out of the girl's sleeping quarters, heir hair cut short in a neat style, dyed a light maroon.

"Holy geez, Ai-chan? Daisuke-kun?"

"We're going to get that a lot today, aren't we?" Ai asked back.

* * *

The three of them stood and waited by the door to the hallway.  Toshiro-kun was supporting Keisuke on one side, and one of the psyche staff on the other.

"No feel well," Keisuke muttered.

"Door?" asked Toshiro.

"Oh, yeah, got it," Daisuke said.

"I'll get the dorm door?" Ai asked. 

"No, we're going to put him in the common room with Ic-Kaito-kun," Toshiro said. "He went first, and took it really well, so they've tapped me out. I'll stay and keep an eye on them, for now. Cooome on, big guy, thank goodness I've spent a lot of time lugging around K1-b0."

"Who Keeeeee-bo?" Keisuke asked, slurred.

Daisuke's heart shattered. 


	13. Self Conscious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome Qwertyshuman as my beta! Everyone say hallo!

Daisuke didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn't this.

It was a pretty sparse room, with four chairs facing four walls, away from one another. A large lighting fixture was attached to each wall, pointing directly at each chair. He was expecting maybe a thing that forced your eyes open a la Clockwork Orange or some weird contraption that encased your head. In reality, it looked like… a dentist’s chair, minus the spit station and tools.

"Daisuke-kun, take this one, Ai-chan, this, and Hikaru-chan, please sit at Ai-Chan's right. Do not overexert yourselves, I believe you all just saw Keisuke-kun, and Jenny is stuck in the infirmary."

"I need you all to relax. If you want some guided meditation, let me know. If you want to close your eyes, that's fine. The light is strong enough it doesn't matter. If your heart-rate isn't low enough though, it doesn't work."

"So, if you feel as though it's too much, please feel free to turn it off at any time with a button under each of your armrests- either will work. Feel free to hold hands, ask for a drink, a stuffed animal, anything you like. If you need to throw up, there's a bucket next to each of you and we'll stop your run. If your heart rate gets too high, we'll pause it, this is expensive equipment to operate and it won't work if you're stressed. Again, if you've just had enough, press the button. It's much better for you to take it one day at a time. Understood?"

Yeah. Really not what Daisuke was expecting. But now he understood why you couldn't use this to force someone to change. It took too much effort on the part of the participant, and seemed like it would be fairly easy to ignore.

Daisuke hopped in his chair and stretched out, while Hikaru adjusted herself nervously. "I wanna plushie," she said quietly. "A big fat fox if you have one."

A gigantic spherical red fox was brought in by one of the staff. Hikaru scooped it up into a hug. It was half as big as her.

Daisuke felt a rap on his shoulder. He grabbed Ai's hand and held on tight as a technician dropped a heavy shield down on either side of the chair. Probably to block out each other's lights.

Daisuke couldn't see anything of Ai but her hand.

His hand? How quickly would they be changing, anyway?

The technician slammed down the last shield.

"We are leaving the room now, but we can see and hear. Just ask if you need anything," Arukawa said.

"And again, don't push yourself. Please."

"You know someone is going to anyway," Daisuke replied.

"I hope you three saw the others and learned your lesson. There's no need to rush," she said and, with the audible click of a shut door, a machine began to stir.

It looked like a giant flashlight, and it snaked towards Daisuke on a long extender, slowly being adjusted to a half meter away from Daisuke's face. He craned his neck up, and the boom arm followed. Down, and it did too.

He squeezed Ai's hand and breathed deeply.

"Everyone, you're all too stressed," came a man's voice over the intercom. "I'm giving you some tones. Breathe to the sound, close your eyes if it helps."

The white noise with tones began to play, and Daisuke jammed his eyes shut, squeezing Ai's hand a little harder before realizing he wasn't getting squeezed back.

"Daisuke-kun, Ai-san has gone under, you don't need to squeeze their hand so hard," the same voice said. Daisuke slumped a bit in his chair, embarrassed. "Aaaand, so has Hikaru-chan."

So it was just him then. Daisuke took in a deep breath and gently let go of Ai's hand. Okay. Breathe in... wait for the chime, and out... and...

He woke up in his bed, Rantaro looming over. Well, as much as someone as friendly as him could loom. His hair had been cut and styled to match the last two seasons, and the bags were magically gone from under his eyes too.

Rantaro squatted to meet his gaze. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got rolled over by a steamroller."

"Go ask for a massage. If your muscles seize up now it's only going to get worse until you're used to it. Dizzy? Need an antacid?"

"No, not dizzy or nauseous. Where's..." the word was heavy on his tongue "...Ai-chan?"

Rantaro looked a little surprised and pointed up. "Though I'm not sure who's up there yet. They're asleep. Actually, what's your name?"

Like it was a hard qu- it was a hard question. "It... it's... it's Daisuke. I... can't remember my last name though."

"It'll come. Hang on a tic." Rantaro reached over and pressed Daisuke's call button. "He's up."

"Coming."

* * *

Daisuke had to be wheeled to a screening room.

"Did I overdo it?" he asked, looking glumly at Arukawa.

"No, unfortunately, there's usually some kind of side effect even when you get the appropriate amount of exposure. So, you remember the room?"

"Yeah. I held Ai-chan's hand until the tech told me she was under."

"And your name?"

"I know my first name, not my last. Daisuke. My last name had... something to do with sugar, I think?"

"Do you know where you are?"

"Yeah. Danganronpa. Well, the study side at least."

"And I can tell your new personality hasn't kicked in yet. Do you feel any different?"

"If I did, how would I know?"

"There's usually a transitionary period. It's... frustrating."

"It sounds like you're speaking from experience, Professor," Daisuke said with a grin.

"Maybe I am," she smiled back. "Danganronpa **_has_ ** been running for decades."

"...what were you?" he finally asked, as Arukawa passed him a hefty padlock and a ring of picks with a miniature flashlight and magnifying glass on the ring. It was pretty obvious she was testing if any skills were absorbed.

"The detective in Season 9. It was the first version set up like this."

"It was all scripted stuff before then, right?" Daisuke shone the flashlight down the keyhole and looked inside. Somehow, he just... knew. If he could align all the pins in there as if a key had raised them up, the lock would open. He tapped a pick on the table and immediately went to work while he listened.

"It was. Games, anime, a TV drama. But people wanted more, and the government thought it would be good to test psychological experiments."

A dull clunk as the lock popped open, Daisuke heard a small click, and realized he’d been timed- Arukawa was palming a small stopwatch.

"So, you did get something," she said looking down at a flashing light on her tablet- a notification, but Daisuke couldn't read it upside down. "It's usually very difficult to tell if the personality doesn't start showing too, though"

"Got a harder one?" Daisuke asked, twirling the open lock on his finger, a little pleased with himself.

"I do, but that's all I needed to see for today. You're dismissed. Dinner is served in about two hours but ask as you need for snacks or drinks. Some people get voracious appetites. I'd also strongly suggest a hot bath, usually side effects get worse before they get better.”

“Rantaro said the same thing. Does he have to do this all again too?”

“He’s still under… a session or two should get him where he should be, and he’s offered to help you all until just before we go live. K1-b0, Toshiro-kun, and Rantaro-kun will be invaluable in helping the rest of you fourteen to transition. I know what it’s like too, but it’s been decades and the process is nowhere near as extreme as it was when I was eighteen.”

Arukawa looked down again at her messages, frowning. “Can you stand yet or do you need someone to wheel you back? I need to check up on Ai-chan, apparently... well."

"Is she okay?"

"Let's go together, shall we?"

* * *

Arukawa pushed Daisuke's chair back down to the dorms.

"Let. Me. Call. My. Uncle." It was a snarling growl, audible from the hallway. "I've been wrongfully detained."

"Um, hey, hey, calm down-" Ichiro's voice? Daisuke wasn't sure. It sounded.. loud but **_less_ ** loud, even accounting for the door between them.  "Look, I don't know where I am either but making a scene isn't-"

"Gonta say wait for nice kid to come back. He had snacks. Maybe has phone?"

Arukawa rubbed the bridge of her nose. "And so it begins. Can you stand? You might be able to keep -ahem- Saihara-kun in line."

Daisuke cracked his knuckles. "I've got a few squirt guns on me."

Arukawa opened the door, and Daisuke pulled out a water pistol. "Payback from earlier!" he shouted, hitting his friend between the eyes.

"What the-" the slender kid started, stunned into silence, water dripping down hair and face. "...Daisuke-kun, what are you doing here? And in a wheelchair...?"

On the one hand, Shuich-Ai recognized Daisuke as Daisuke, which was a slight relief. On the other, the kid (Daisuke would wait to see what they answered to) was speaking in a slightly gravel-filled lower timbre, so they were likely much further transitioned than Daisuke was.

"Someone want to explain what's going on here?" they finally asked.

"You're in a holding facility prior to the taping of Danganronpa. Do you know who I am?" Arukawa asked gently.

They stared for a solid minute. "...Arukawa-sensei... oh, crap, I am so sorry. I..." the kid added looking down at their hands. "I'm... I'm Ai, aren't I? It feels like an old movie I'm trying to remember. Wait... no... that's not my name, that's not right at all...? It doesn't make any sense... I got wiped didn't I? I'm... sorry. I need to sit."

"Sai-Saihara-kun?" Daisuke asked nervously.

Shuichi perked his head up. "That! It was... frustratingly on the tip of my tongue. But... Daisuke-kun... a wheelchair? And use my first name. Hearing Saihara sounds way too formal from you."

"Hurts like a bitch. You get any side effects... Shuichi-kun?" The word didn’t hurt to say, especially since Shuichi seemed to remember Daisuke as a friend, but it still stung.

"Much better," he said, mussing Daisuke's hair absentmindedly in the chair. "And just.. I was just really confused. And angry, though probably from being confused. I'm.. I'm okay now. Sorry for the outburst."

Daisuke was glad he was wearing some makeup, because he was pretty sure his face would be beet red otherwise.

"I was just stopping by to drop off Daisuke and check on everyone. How are you all?" Arukawa asked, snapping Daisuke from his stupor.

"Gonta had stomachache," Keisuke-now-Gonta said. "But skinny kid with big circle glasses gave Gonta some crackers. Stomach feel better."

"I feel like I woke up from a really bad dream. But we're really taping Danganronpa? This isn't going to mess with my astronaut training too much, is it? I've got way too much to see out there! I don't have time to be sitting on my ass."

"Kaito-kun, this is part of your training. Take it as a learning experience in communication."

"Oh yeah, we're all going to be stuck together aren't we? We need to learn to get along. Have I met everyone?" Kaito looked down and away, scratching at the back of his neck. "Wait- you're the shorty who sat in the back row of the truck coming here. What the heck happened to your hair? Your **_face_ **?"

"Better for the cameras?" Daisuke replied, shrugging. He wasn't going to say too much. Seemed as though he was the least far along.

"Dinner is at six," Arukawa reminded everyone. "I need to go see how the final group is doing. You're all free to go where you please unless the door is **_locked_ ** , yes that was aimed at you, **_Daisuke-kun_ ** , though you probably ought to relax here until you can walk unassisted."

"Why Daisuke-kun get warning?" Gonta asked.

"Because locked doors don't mean much to me, now, apparently."

"Why? You strong enough to open them too?"

"No, right now I feel like I got run over by a truck," Daisuke replied. "I'm using the tub. Gimme some space?"

"Was that aimed at me?" Shuichi asked quizzically. "I don't bathe in public anyway. My whole back is messed up after a car accident when I was six, remember?" So, the idea of not being able to take off their binder in public really did get ingrained in Shuichi.

"So, you... never take a bath?" Kaito asked, surprised. "It's like the biggest thing astronauts miss you know- water conservation on the ISS and all that. We should all go relax in the tub, we've got time! We really should get to know each other anyway, seems like you two are already buddy-buddy. I wanna hear the big guy's story too."

"I really don't want to look at it," Shuichi replied quietly. "I'm not taking my shirt off for any reason but to wash and bandage it again, and I'll do that in private, thanks."

"Okay, so swimsuits required in the tub. Problem solved?" Kaito popped in, shrugging an arm around Daisuke in the wheelchair and Shuichi, pulling them close as he grinned. "Let's see if we can get you a rashguard or something, yeah?"

Daisuke wasn't really sure if he liked Kaito- he was a bit overly friendly- but he certainly appreciated him over Ichiro.

"You're not going to let me say no, are you?" Shuichi said, shrinking in size.

"Nope. Where's the markers? I'm making a sign for the shower room door!"

* * *

Daisuke was surprised to discover the last stall in the line was wheelchair friendly, so, after finding some swim trunks to change into after, he carefully washed off, put them on, and banged on the inside of the door until Shuichi came to open it.

"Help me?" Daisuke pleaded quietly to his friend in a racer’s swim top and trunks.

"Easy. Lean on me," he said, pulling an arm around to help support Daisuke's wobbling weight. Daisuke complied and carefully got into the large ofuro in the back of the area.

Kaito was already stretched out, as was Gonta, Toshiro, and... K1-b0, who was fidgeting and having trouble looking up at his former larger caretaker. Did Gonta remember anything at all about K1-b0, or was it overwritten so as not to mass with the game? Keisuke seemed too far gone for pity, but Daisuke was small enough that he could swim across the massive tub to K1-b0.

“Hanging in there?” he whispered.

“Not… par- wait. You realize what’s going on, don’t you?” K1-b0 seemed surprised.

“Only thing that gigantic flashlight gave me today was lock picking. If I got any Kokichi, I’m not aware of it.”

“Ah, so you ended up like most of the girls. I think only Jenny started crossing over to her character’s personality so far. Jun-kun, Jiro-kun, and Maiya-chan should have just finished, though, so I don’t know. I’m… just glad they didn’t put both Keisuke and Toshiro-kun under in the same time slot. I… I’m not sure if I could have coped. For now, I’ll return the favor Keisuke’s done since he started lab work and watch over him. Though I’m not sure I could lift him up if he fell. I can barely lift **_myself_ **.”

Kaito squinted. “Whatchu two mumbling about?”

K1-b0 twiddled his fingers.

“I promised him I’d take a good look at his code,” Daisuke cut in, before changing the subject for him.

“K1-b0, you’ve met Kaito-kun, right?” he asked, looking sideways at K1-b0. “You know, **_Luminary of the Stars_ ** ,” he added sarcastically, which was caught on by Shuichi but lost on Gonta, Kaito, and K1-b0.

“Code? What, ultimate programmer? You do look like you haven’t seen the sun in years.” Kaito replied.

“Naw, I make my underlings go out in the sun **_for_ ** me,” Daisuke joked back. “Check my bunk when we’re out. Might give a clue or three.”

“I saw it earlier, bunch of clown masks, what are you, the Joker or something?”

“Aaaaaaand now you know why Shuichi-kun and I are friends. He’s not dead and I’m not in prison.”

“Shit, I’m not crossing either of you.”

“Gonta no understand…” Gonta said, head down and a little embarrassed.

“’S’ok,” Daisuke replied. “If you’re not in my way, I’m not going to be in yours. And… uh, you probably noticed from the names on the door tags there’s no Daisuke on it.”

K1-b0 caught on, surprisingly. “You want us to use your real name, then? It’s Kokichi, right?” he asked, tracing out the character for child, the **ko** in Kokichi, in the air.

“Okay, **_you’re_ ** Ouma. Then the only people we’re missing are Shinguji-san and Hoshi-san, right? And the girls.”

“Yeah,” Shuichi said in agreement. “Though… I remember a girl with red hair in the psyche lab I was in earlier. I think she’s one of- no, she’s definitely a contestant. She’s a magician, I remember seeing her bunk last night.”

“You went in the **_girls_ ** dorms?!” Kaito practically shouted.

“We… we all did. And we can go in, as long as they say it’s okay, same if they want to come in our side… wait… what do you remember since coming here? You remember riding with us from the train, yeah?”

“Kokichi was in the back center seat, there was some girl with a long braid behind the driver and… oh. Oh shit. Oh, god I am so sorry.”

Daisuke crossed his arms and relaxed into the hot water so only his eyes were visible. He’d be laughing too hard otherwise, as he waited to see how ‘Kaito’ would reconcile yesterday’s memory with Shuichi in the basin right now.

“I thought you were a girl, yesterday. Hell, I thought you were **_hot_ **. God, I am so, so, sorry.”

Shuichi just rolled his eyes. “I get that a lot. About two months ago, I even used it to my advantage and crossdressed for a case. But if that leaves this room, you’re all dead meat.”

Daisuke exploded in a bubbling fit of laughter, almost swallowing some water in his lungs. Now it was Shuichi’s turn to slink into the water as far as he could, this time in shame.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’ll give the short version.”

Shuichi raised his head just far enough out of the water to screech, “Don’t you dare.”

“Shuichi-kunmakesaprettygirlandAURGHTHATS MY HAIR.” Daisuke expected the extensions to come off like a fake ponytail when pulled, but however they were affixed, they weren’t moving, both thank goodness and **_ouch_ **.

“Keep that up and I’ll send you out on a recon assignment like that next time,” Shuichi hissed. “ **_Alone_ **.”

“What, **_both_ ** of you dressed up?” Kaito asked between fits of laughter. “Good lord, I hope there’s evidence.”

“I hate to be a buzzkill, but we ought to get out of the tub. One, high heat for much longer isn’t good for you, and two, we ought to head to dinner,” K1-b0 interjected.

“Hey, Gonta-kun, big guy, you want to help me get Keebs out of the tub? He’s pretty heavy being metal and all,” Toshiro asked, nudging the person who had the same face as his lab-mate.

“No problem for Gonta, Gonta loves helping friends!”

For a split moment, the pupils and irises blanked out of K1-b0’s eyes, glowing only in a flat white OLED display before realigning to blue. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I know you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Language note:  
> When Daisuke thinks he remembers his last name sounding like sugar, thats because sugar is sato in Japanese. Not the same Sato as in the last name (Ai's last name, not his), which actually has a long o sound at the end (sugar 'sato' is a short o sound)


	14. Insert Double Entendre Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: sexual assault, assault, Miu being Miu

Daisuke stretched inside one of the changing stalls. Although not at 100%, he could walk and stand now- the hot water did wonders. Even if it were just a placebo effect, he was sore from psychological distress in the first place. Daisuke wrung out the water from his hair, cracked his neck, and pulled on a shirt. He remembered what Momo had said about the contestant with the complicated kimono when he'd stepped out of the stall in fresh clothes and soaking wet hair, to the common mirrors and sinks in the changing room adjoining the shower one.

He didn't even have to think twice about blow-drying the mop of purple and slicking in gel, and, in a few minutes, stared back at an exact copy of the style the hairdresser had done earlier that day.

"Damn, hardly recognized you," Daisuke turned toward the sound. Jun leaned in the doorway between the changing area and sleeping quarters. "So, purple, huh? Looks like they tried to give everyone a color theme. Easier for making distinct characters, huh?"

"What do you remember?" Daisuke asked, squinting, as he rifled through the drawers at the sinks, might as well see if his makeup was in there and if he could do it.

"Personality hasn't kicked in yet, but I've got a jumble of memories I know aren't, well, mine, as it were. Damn, I knew Ryoma was a hell of a sheet but I wasn't expecting him to witness his girlfriend get shot in front of him." He smiled, and pulled a stool up from the corner so he could see up to the mirror himself.

"Yeeeeeaaaaars of therapy, ha, if I survive I'll just ask them to wipe out his personality. I don't need that shit long term. Would be pretty ace to actually be good at a sport for once though, I'll see if I can keep that. Trying to see if you can make your character again? There's kits under the sink, I think I know what's yours."

Eight kits were stacked under the sink in the largest cabinet, just as Jun said.

"Had a bit of time this morning, since I was last. So I asked around what things were where. The gym's pretty big, there's a half court if we want to play some pickup."

"Do I look like I'd be any good at basketball?" Daisuke asked laughing as he tried to find his kit. Each had a little pixel art photo of their characters, though he didn't recognize some.

"Dude this one looks like a demon," Daisuke laughed pointing at one of the smallest kits, with only about three or four bottles inside.

"Oh, that's Ryoma's hat," Jun replied, shrugging. "I don't have much of a morning routine. I think the only ones who have anything complicated are these two," he said, pointing to two kits that were less like the little clear plastic cases and almost the size of toolboxes. One of the pixel sprite faces had a brown hat and long hair, the other a purple spiked updo and goatee.

"I think that one's Kaito- he's got purple hair too. But it didn't look like he was wearing  **_that_ ** much on his face. This all hair gel or something?"

"He could have fake tattoos, though?"

"I can tell you, with certainty, that no, he doesn't."

"Does he have a wig? Nobody's bald in these pictures so I'm assuming Jiro-kun got one."

"I mean, my hair is a lot longer than it was before- but they put something in, s'not a wig," Daisuke supplied. "Should we take a peek?"

"Its padlocked," Jun replied.

"They said I couldn't open doors, this isn't a door, right, Jun-kun?" Daisuke asked slightly.

"Technically correct, the best kind of correct," Jun smirked. "You know how to lock-pick?"

"I do now," Daisuke said, grinning evilly.

* * *

There were blood packs inside, fake blood, in tiny bladders small enough to hide two in a palm, individually hermetically sealed in clear plastic.

"What the hell are these supposed to be for?" Jun said curiously. "Agh, whatever. I'm sure Ichi- Kaito-kun will know. I don't like it though. Maybe his character is like a Byakuya or something."

"A what?"

"One of the old game characters. He'd mess with the crime scenes for fun. Never hurt anyone, but he was just an ass."

"Wouldn't surprise me, and that'd explain why his is locked up," Daisuke replied, shutting it and checking that it was locked again before putting it back.

"Aww, look, even K1-b0 gets one," Jun said, pulling out one of the smaller clear boxes. "This must be the stuff he used to cover his face markings," he added, rattling K1-b0's box with the single bottle inside. "Hey, this yours?" Jun asked, pulling out one with a pixel Kokichi on it, smiling with a little checkered bandana.

"Yup, that's my neckerchief," Daisuke replied. There wasn't much in his box. "Hey, where's the razors? I don't need to shave too much, but if this is a few weeks long, it's going to happen eventually," he added, rubbing his chin.

"Look in your box, I had the same question."

"God, I can't imagine you with facial hair."

"Ditto on you. It'd be ridiculous. I'm short, but you look like you're 10, baby face."

"Wait till you see what they did for the makeup, it's worse," Daisuke replied, noting that there was a bottle of hair removal cream inside his box. "Nobody gets a razor, do they?"

"No, a few seasons ago they stopped filming for the show in the bedrooms. We still have monitor cams in there, but since they don't film for the show in there..."

"Murders won't take place in a bedroom."

"Bingo."

"So what, if you're chasing someone with a hatchet and they run in a bedroom do you just... stop?"

"Or there's a memory light at the door facing out or something. I just asked why we didn't get razors." Jun shrugged. "No flames in the bedroom either. Explains why Tenko-chan has an electric incense burner."

"So bedrooms are safe..."

"Guess so, but our characters won't know that."

"Is it so... our characters don't try and commit suicide?"

"It's my guess too, at least so they don't do it in a locked bedroom."

"I can lock-pick."

"Would Kokichi really do that to help the investigation after he murdered someone?" Jun asked, as Daisuke started opening up packets and let his hands do the work.

"You're already treating me like I'm going to kill someone."

"No, but when you're gone and Kokichi-kun takes over I will. I trust him as far as I can throw him, and you see my arms. Look, don't take it personally, but I'm not going to die here. I'm going to win."

"So am I. And the only way to do that is not kill anyone and not get killed."

"Or get away with murder," Jun added, with a wave of his hand. "Look, if you're able to rein in Kokichi, I'll see you after the show's done taping. Otherwise, well..."

Jun left it hanging, as he exited the changing room. Daisuke finally paid some attention to the face staring back at him.

It was more than just some makeup and hair dye, Daisuke realized as he capped and shut everything, putting the clear bin back under the sink.

He was wearing a mask.

* * *

Dinner wasn't the same level of liveliness from the day before. K1-b0 awkwardly shuffled upright in the corner. Right. He wasn't allowed to ruin his knee.

The girls were mostly all gathered around Jenny-now-Angie, and rapid firing questions at her.

"You know," Daisuke said, piling his plate with dumplings, "you might be talking too fast for-"

"Non, non, please, keep them coming, this is wonderful!" Angie exclaimed. Her accent was a little... strange, but her speed and vocabulary had improved considerably.

["Do you still speak English?"] Daisuke asked, curiously.

["Angie is still a foreigner, they didn't take that from me,"] she replied. ["I still... kind of know who I am. It's super weird. But I'll just use Angie now. Less confusing."]

["What's confusing?"] Daisuke turned to see Kaito approaching, his plate nothing but fried rice.

"Um, since when did you speak English?" Daisuke asked, switching back to Japanese. 

"Fifth grade. I speak all the common languages on the space station. Gotta speak at least English so everyone can talk to each other, right? My Chinese accent is shit though."

Daisuke shook his head, mumbling. "Are they going to teach me how to break into a maximum-security prison or something?"

* * *

Toshiro tapped Daisuke on the shoulder after dinner. "Hey. Can you and... um, Miu-chan come with me and K1-b0? Before both of you um..."

"Before we're both insane," Daisuke replied. "I get it. Oh, bee-tee-dubs, I know I'm not Kokichi yet. I just wanted to make it easier on the people who've crossed over."

"We can try getting you tomorrow or the day after?" Toshiro looked glum. 

"No, I definitely got some skills. I just don't know if- or how well- I could code. Worst case scenario is I get an idea of K1-b0's insides so I have something to work off of later. I'm not going to touch anything if I don't think I can help."

Toshiro nodded. "Same as Ace then. She's still... well she's her, for sure, but she's already soldered together a PCB that can detect movement way more accurately than we can. Hopefully you two can knock heads and put our department to shame..."

"Hey, don't be down. Maybe a generation from now, this'll be so cheap to use anyone could learn from it. Less time in school, more time changing the world, right?"

Toshiro smiled a little at that. "Okay, smartass, put your money where your mouth is."

* * *

K1-b0 disrobed back in the lab, supported by Izaki, who Daisuke hadn't seen since the young man drove him here-  **_yesterday_ ** . It was only yesterday.

Beyond a small nod, Izaki wasn't giving Daisuke or Ace the time of day. He probably didn't know what to call them and stayed quiet.

"Miu-chan, help K1-b0 on his bench," Toshiro instructed. "You'll be in charge of his maintenance in the game, so you're going to need the practice."

"What if..." Ace started.

"Then Kokichi-kun will."

"And if?" K1-b0 asked.

"If it’s early in the game, one of us will be manning some of Momokuma's animatronic assistants. We'll do it remotely, but it'll be a lot harder. Let's not let it resort to that. You need to do what you can for yourself too. Okay, lifting with your knees people, one, two..."

Daisuke, Izaki, and Ace hefted, with K1-b0 pulling up his weight best he could.

"All right, so if K1-b0 isn't powered off, he can open his maintenance hatches himself."

K1-b0 nodded. "Yes, but if I am not, you'd need a key. It is inserted in the lock on the-"

Daisuke's lock-picks are on the small hole in his side K1-b0 was pointing to, and before the bot could finish articulating his thought, his chest was open.

"Well that's frightening," Toshiro said in shock. "Note to self: do not piss you off."

"Okay,  **_wheeze_ ** , you need a cleaning. Someone get me some compressed air?" Ace bent close. "Magnifying lenses, frog clips, solder, iron, pick it up, boys, I have work to do."

"That bad?" K1-b0 asked nervously.

"No, but it could be a ton better. Now come on, everyone got a makeover but you, let's get you fixed up. Kichi-kun, you've got a hell of a set of fingers I wonder if you could-"

"Whatever you're about to say, no, I saw your sheet, you whore," Daisuke replied with a bit of a laugh. "What do you need?"

"Geez, I thought you'd hate me," Ace said, grabbing the tools off a student who handed them and ran the hell out of range, morbid curiosity the only thing keeping them in the room. "Hair tie, make it snappy. Haven't had hair to my ass in years, and look, I'm a dumb blonde to boot!" She laughed, shaking out her long pale blonde hair. "But really... you're okay with what I'll be?"

"I was more worried of what you'd think of me, Jun-kun's already written me off as an enemy, and Kaito-kun's shaking in his boots."

"Eh, whatever. Us fucked up characters gotta stick together, right, sweetie?" Ace said, grinning evilly at K1-b0.

"Ohhh no, I want off this ride," K1-b0 whined, as Ace carefully blasted the air canister inside his chest.

"This doesn't feel good?" Ace asked.

K1-b0 blushed, giving Ace the answer she needed.

"What if I had Kichi-kun dial up your tactile sensitivity, huh? We're already written as a threeeeeeesooooooome..." she said, rolling her finger on K1-b0's neck. With his chest open, it was clear to see his fan start to spin on high. Immediately, Ace stopped. "Oh, god, I'm not trying to... I was just joking around, I don't..."

"Miu-chan my leg may not work properly but I could have lifted my arm to stop you anytime. Though I'd appreciate it if you asked permission before you start... um... servicing me next time."

Ace screamed and fled the room.

* * *

Daisuke found her, sobbing in the art room. "I just aroused a robot, in front of like ten people no less."

Daisuke didn't want to bring up that she'd probably do more on national TV once she really was Miu.

"Um, well, he seemed okay with it and... like..." Daisuke took a moment to pause. "Hold up. If he can be, that means they not only  **_programmed_ ** his AI to be- which is like four years old now- they had to also build in tactile sensors in his chassis for him to be um... a-aroused." Daisuke grew flush, embarrassed he'd have to have a birds-and-bees talk with anyone, let alone a very attractive woman his age he'd only just met a day ago.

"Oh god, I don't know what's worse..."

"Well he's supposed to be as human as possible right? Love is human and... so is lust. Maybe... you know... we should ask him?"

Ace nodded, swallowing tears and wiping snot off her face onto her sleeve. "We're finishing the work with all of them out of the room. I don't care if they're behind one way glass or whatever. You, me, him."

"You want to finish?"

"I'm not just going to leave him on the operating table with his chest open, and even if they close him up his balance is still fucked up. That's not fair."

"You sure?"

"Let’s go back. I'm not going to leave Loverboy hanging."

"You're braver than me," Daisuke finally articulated, trotting to keep pace with Ace's strides.

* * *

After shooing out everyone on the robotics team, except Toshiro, whom Ace seemed to trust, she cracked her knuckles and got back to work.

"Looks like they finished cleaning you while I had my hissy fit," Ace said, cocking her head from side to side. "Okay, my head is clear, your fan isn't on high, so before I move forward, K1-b0, you're going to need to be honest with me and tell me what gets you off."

"I!"

"No buts. If you start having a robogasm from me touching your pinky, I need to know."

Daisuke never saw K1-b0 turn so red.

"I don't come with reproductive functionality!" he sputtered.

"Three strokes on your neck says otherwise. Spill."

"I... I just like being touched. It's not... it's not..."

"We're all legal in here, you can say the word 'sexual'," Ace said gently. "Well, unless you're considered four years old, and then we've got  **_other_ ** issues to bring to therapy."

K1-b0 made a sound of strained servos before finally articulating, "It's... comfortable. And then I feel warm, and my fan starts spinning. You don't see it when my chest is closed."

"Hey, Tosh-kun, take his hand?"

Toshiro blushed, but complied, and K1-b0's exhaust fan raged again.

"Okay, see, you're just touch-starved, not horny," Ace replied. "I know those feels. Being stuck in the hospital coated in sensors and tubes isn't conducive to hugs."

"They... did make me as close to human as possible..." K1-b0 mumbled.

"And that means needing social time. And attention, right Tosh-kun?"

"I'd guess so, but I only started a semester ago. Most of my job is maintaining his auditory sensors, I don't know anything about who put in tactile."

"Ahem."

"I mean, getting hugged, or high-fived or whatever, it's part of the human condition. Your AI lived for years in just a computer and you've only moved over into your chassis two months ago. Of course it's confusing. But... but that's part of being human. Having feelings, and being confused sometimes."

"So now that that's out of the way, I'm going to drill a hole in your crotch," Ace said nonchalantly, to three "What?!"s.

"Look, I saw it right away. K1-b0, your issue with balance is that you look straight forward with binocular vision like a human does, but since your body is metal, sensors alone letting you know you've hit ground aren't enough. You need some kind of distance and texture sensor so you can adjust if you're stepping on hardwood versus grass versus tatami, and if that ground is even. I'm going to add better shock in your feet to take care of the latter problem, but since you- in your own words- don't have reproductive capability- I'm putting the distance sensors pointing down, between your legs. Even if you wear clothes, we should be able to calibrate for that. I'd use something that emits a high-pitched sound and sends that back in a receiver."

"You want to solve his balance problems with a... sonar... crotch," Daisuke slowly articulated. "That sounds like an extremely Miu solution to a very... non-Miu problem."

"If it works, I don't care. I already smell from my hands," K1-b0 said brightly. "I really am sick of falling all the time."

"Well then, Daisuke, you're on software. I want an object added to his ambulatory system in thirty minutes."

"Are you crazy?"

"Yes. Now operation Sonic Crotch is a gooooo!"

* * *

Daisuke jammed his eyes shut as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Toshiro had unlocked K1-b0's test partition for him, so if he royally fucked up he wasn't actually hurting the bot. But Ace's laughing and occasional drilling sounds were frustrating. Especially when he heard... strange noises from K1-b0. Whether it was just from being touched or... something Daisuke didn't really want to think about.

Daisuke was surprised at what was in front of him. The code was in English, for one. He supposed programming languages needed to be universal. But more importantly, he understood what was being written and quickly generated a new object for K1-b0's system to recognize.

[private sub dick_snsr

dim emitter_a as ~~]

"Miu-chan, stop having a lady boner and tell me the number of senders and receivers you're shoving up K1-b0's..."

"Two each. At the inner thigh so he can run and still get the info he needs."

"Thankyouuuuu," Daisuke chirped as he turned back to his code. 

[dim emitter_a as sender_1; dim emitter_b as sender_2; dim sonar_a as receiver_1...

Daisuke just kept typing, his hands moving as fast as he could read.

[if [runtime step_check = TRUE] run emitter_a, if[receiver_a < [runtime chime_qdB], [runtime basic_movement], [runtime elevation_check]], END];

Toshiro just bounced back between Ace and Daisuke, watching in awe as the two of them worked in near silence, save Ace's obviously fake moaning and occasional innuendo.

"For someone as lewd as you, you're extremely shy about actual- " Ace pulled at something inside of K1-b0, muting him.

"I am looming over you with power tools," she said with a devilish grin, running the trigger of the drill in the air for emphasis. "And yeah, it's what happens when you grow up with four older brothers, K1-b0, you should be familiar with that. You've got what, fifteen of ‘em?"

Deftly, she plugged back in whatever she'd removed, and after a high-pitched screech like nails on chalkboard, K1-b0 could reply. "Aside from Professor Iidabashi himself, I have seventeen people who created my AI, plus another 23 students who have worked on it or my chassis in the last four years. I guess I do have a lot of siblings."

"Yeah," Daisuke piped in "Plus you've got a bunch of partitions on the computer too, so are those like half-siblings or what?"

Toshiro shot Daisuke a glare, though Daisuke didn't know why.

"More like earlier memories. I know they save some snapshots in case my hardware fries. I suppose an analogue for you would be old school yearbooks, although that's a poor analogy."

Toshiro's scowl at Daisuke disappears, replaced by a small smile.

Daisuke goes back to finishing writing the sensor instructions, but makes a mental note to ask Toshiro about the "other K1-b0" code packets he saw later.

They didn't look quite like earlier versions, but  **_alternate_ ** ones.

* * *

"Well, how's it feel?"

"This is what it feels like to walk on tile? It's... it's cold." K1-b0 was still naked, tapping a metal foot on the tile floor. Nervously, he bent his bad knee.

"Wow." It's all he can say as he flexed his leg and took a few nervous steps around his workbench. Cautiously, he lifted one leg, and holds on to the bench. He's wobbling, but not falling over.

"Good?" Daisuke asked. "You should be able to balance on one leg now, maybe not well, but I can't really either. Try running."

K1-b0 twiddled his fingers, something Daisuke realized meant he was nervous or worried. "O-okay."

Planting a foot down, he broke into a wide circle run around the bench. After a full circle, he made too hard a turn, slipped... and caught his balance, hopping around for a few moments before fully righting himself.

"This is..."

Toshiro merely blinked. "You guys get this?" he shouted upwards.

"You don't need to remind me they were watching us remotely, Tosh-kun." Ace rolled her eyes.

"Er, sorry."

"Well, you like wearing clothes, right? Put stuff on and make sure the sensors still work though the fabric," Daisuke encouraged. "And no helping him, Toshiro-kun, I want to make sure he can bend without falling."

It took a little hopping, but K1-b0, for the first time, completely dressed himself without assistance. "The floor doesn't feel cold through shoes, but I can still tell the tile. Aaaand," he said, walking to a spot missing a chunk of ceramic, "here's where I fell last week. I can feel the divot with my foot now!" K1-b0 turned to face the three of them with a massive grin. "If I could cry right now... I think I would be. I don't know what to feel."

"Just thank them, K1-b0," Toshiro said quietly. "We've been trying to fix this for weeks."

K1-b0 ran up to Ace, pulling her in a massive hug. "THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU," he shouted, squeezing a little tighter.

Ace leaned in, and gently kissed him on the nose. "For you? Anytime."

Daisuke just smirked. He'd named the new module DICK SENSOR and gotten away with it.

"Come on, we should probably head back to the dorms," Daisuke said aloud, just before he was scooped up in a bear hug of his own.

"You guys, sure, but my job over there is done," Toshiro said with a shrug. "I can visit but I have my own bedroom on this side of the building with the rest of the tech team. They redecorated the bottom Gonta bunk while we were at dinner for K1-b0. I've been booted."

"I don't understand... I... do not sleep and therefore need no bed." K1-b0 looked confused.

"And I'm not a contestant. You only charge once a week, I'm sure having a space over there to lie down would be useful if these two are going to give you any other upgrades."

"I see..."

"I'm not going anywhere, please, don't worry. But... I'm not a contestant and I also... don't want to be near what Keisuke's become. It..."

"It hurts you," K1-b0 supplied. "I'm sure not physically. It hurts you in here," he added, pointing towards Toshiro's chest. "I understand. I'll watch over him until the show's over."

"It's a promise I'm holding you to, ion-breath.  **_Little brother_ ** ."

* * *

Daisuke flopped on one of the common-room couches and hit the call button for a soda float. After all that, he needed something sweet. Tenko, Hikaru, Natsuko and Ririn were at one of the tables playing a card game, Jun stretched out on the opposing sofa with handheld console game plugged into headphones, and Maiya was attempting to play an electronic organ with the sound on near-silent, fumbling with the opening notes to Fur Elise.

Shuichi and Kaito came out of the boy's dorm, practically dragging Rantaro with them. What was Kaito's bright idea now?

"Rantaro-kun, you are the most antisocial person I have ever met, and we are going to fix that." It was an order, not a suggestion.

“Maybe I’m antisocial because I’m three deep in these?” Rantaro snapped back, twisting himself out of their grasp. “I’ve been wiped for eight months already, and I’m just tired. Please… just leave me be.”

“Who was it who reminded us yesterday to have fun and stay sane?” Shuichi asked quietly. “Because right now, my head is a mess and I’m having a super hard time remembering what’s real, what isn’t, and what I’ve read in books or movies before. It’s all bleeding together. But I have friends here, and I’m not going to waste what little energy I do have moping about it.”

Rantaro closed his eyes and smiled. “Fine, but you dragged me, so I’m picking the activity. Basketball. Pickup 3-on-3.”

Tenko dropped her cards, looking up excitedly, her utterly crazy twin-tails she’d been given that day bobbing with her.

“Well, looks like we’re at four of six,” Rantaro said with a grin.

“Hey, K1-b0,” Daisuke shouted out loud enough for the bot to poke his head out of the boy’s dorms. “You wanna put those new sensors to the test?”

“Five,” Shuichi corrected. “Daaaa-Kokichi-kun, you want to round that out?”

“Nah, Jun-kun, you said you wanted to play, go play. Just do me a favor and let me know if K1-b0 eats dirt.”

Jun shook his head, smiled, and closed the game player’s clamshell. “I don’t get you, but I salute you, Mr. Supreme Leader. Thanks.”

Daisuke shrugged. “Kill ‘em with kindness?”


	15. Reversion

It wasn't working.

Daisuke and Jiro were sitting on the floor, cross-legged, breathing in the heavy musk of incense. At first, Daisuke thought it was just because he was distracted- Jiro was talking excitedly a mile a minute about funeral rituals and séances before he clasped his hands over his sickness mask.

"I guess I got more of Korekiyo than I thought. Erm, don't mind me, he's uncomfortably macabre."

"Hey, he's passionate about something, can't blame him. At least he's got good taste in eyeliner," Daisuke joked.

"Ugh, don't remind me. My face takes like an hour to do," Jiro said, rolling his eyes. "Anyway. Task at hand. What are we supposed to do? Clap?"

"No that's Shinto," Daisuke said. "Death's unclean so you do Buddhist rituals. I... just tend to pray silently. Light incense, state at a blank wall..."

"So, mindfulness?"

"Basically. I mean, my parents died before I knew them."

"Ah."

"Sorry it's not more exciting."

"No, I... I get it." Jiro shifted, sitting more upright and closed his eyes. Daisuke finally did the same.

But the words didn't come.

**_My name is..._ **

**_My name is..._ **

**_My..._ **

Daisuke sighed loudly. Why did he assume it would be so easy?

"Something wrong?" Jiro asked, cracking open an eye and peeking to his side.

"I... can't remember my prayers," Daisuke grumbled.

"They did say your character didn't have anyone close to them dead. Honestly, as an evil overlord, that kind of surprises me."

"It seemed like Ouma took good care of his own underlings..." Daisuke said with a shrug. "But it's still frustrating, you know?"

"I... can imagine. Especially since you're still cognizant that you're you- I think only you, me, and Jun-kun are the only guys left who are."

"Well it's a bit cheating when K1-b0 and Rantaro-kun are on our side. Really, only three boys and half a girl changed today, though I got a good chunk of my skills."

"Half?"

"Jenny's still sort of there."

"Well, so is Ai-chan, Shuichi-kun shouldn't be remembering you, should he?"

"Actually, I don't know if they wrote us as knowing each other... I'm going to forget, aren't I?"

"If you don't the two of you are going to collude like hell. I don't think I have much left in me, so I'm indifferent, as long as it's less painful than a slow death in a hospital."

"You sure you're not the one who's morbid,  **_Korekiyo_ ** -kun?"

" **_Funny_ ** . But really. If the two of you do collude... you could probably just gather everyone up, do them in, and win as a pair. I don't think they'd let you two keep the knowledge that you're dating."

"What- but- we're not-" Daisuke said, flustered.

“Oh, did I misread the two of you? I’m sorry. Are you… related?”

“No, we’re just friends. We met a little over two months ago.”

Jiro snickered. “You two are  **_just friends_ ** and I’m actually a death-obsessed anthropologist with a sister complex.”

“Hey, man, I don’t know you well enough to judge.”

* * *

Daisuke woke up with a jolt, spitting out purple hair. He’d swallowed some in his sleep, and it tasted disgustingly like hair gel.

Something to wash the taste out. Also, he should probably rinse his hair.

There was a minifridge in the common room, he’d check there before he harassed a staff member for some juice. Water alone wasn’t going to clear out the sticky aftertaste, he mused, as he spat into a trashcan at the base of his bed.

Sobbing, and a pair of white-blue lights piercing the near darkness in the common room. K1-b0 must be sitting on one of the couches, but it definitely didn't sound as though he was the one crying. Daisuke felt like he was intruding, and went to slip back into the dorm.

“No,” K1-b0 said quietly. “Come here.”

Defeated, Daisuke snagged a juicebox from the fridge and carefully worked his way over to K1-b0, using his eyes as the only source of light. Shuichi, messy bedhead and oversized pajamas, was crying into K1-b0’s button down shirt, while the bot, not much taller than Daisuke but certainly shorter than the skinny kid in his arms, was gently rocking and cooing him. It was probably the weirdest thing Daisuke had seen that day, and he’d gotten to see K1-b0 from the inside out.

Well, no, it was the weirdest thing Daisuke had seen that day, because it was probably well past midnight.

“Shu-shuichi…kun?” Daisuke asked, shuffling in the light of K1-b0’s eyes to sit on the sofa next to them.

“No,” the voice said back quietly. The gravel was gone.  **_Ai_ ** was speaking to him.

“So… you didn’t go under,” Daisuke said quietly.

“I think I did, but it didn't stick,” she replied. “And now I’m more messed up.”

“Well, I haven’t gotten a single memory of Kokichi’s yet, but I got a chunk of my ultimate skill,” Daisuke replied. “They said it would take a few days.”

“I… just want this over with, I don’t like having two people in my head at once, it's a mess,” she said. “And thank you for the shoulder, K1-b0, but my leg is starting to cramp. Can I scoot over?” There’s a gentle thud as K1-b0 shifts, gently depositing Ai between the two.

“Two people?”

“Yeah, I’d say it’s like having an argument with myself, but god is Shuichi a wimp. How he’s not going to be the first killed in the game... I don’t know. You need to keep an eye on me, and I’m not asking because I’m a girl and you need to protect me. I’m asking because anytime today I did something even slightly assertive, it was  **_me_ ** with that dumbass whining ‘nononono’ in my head. How someone like that is even mildly functional in polite society is beyond me.” Ai laughed.

“Sounds like you’d make a better man than Shuichi, no?” K1-b0 mused aloud.

“Damn straight,” Ai replied. “And thank you, I needed the cry. Ah, shit, now when I’m trying to do his voice on purpose I can’t. And I can’t hear him inside me.”

“Maybe he’s sleeping?” Daisuke supplied. “I mean, I don't have any of Kokichi yet, I don’t know what that even feels like.”

“No, it’s more like he’s faded off completely. I’ll talk to Arukawa tomorrow and see if that’s normal. For now… this stays between us? Ichiro and Keisuke are already under and I don’t want to pull them back out by messing with them. I didn’t realize how fragile this was.”

“It’s not my place to say,” K1-b0 replied. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through right now.”

“If I wake up as Shuichi again- not faking it, but actually do, then one of you should tell Arukawa what happened. Otherwise I’ll talk to her, okay? And, thanks for listening. I… kind of don’t want to get kicked out and leave Daisuke-kun behind.”

“So that's why you were upset.” K1-b0 wasn’t phrasing it as a question.

“We’re taking this risk together.” Ai sounded firm. “I’ll… I’ll go wash up and head back to sleep. Thanks, you two.”

As soon as the boy’s dorm door closed shut, K1-b0 let out a strained servo noise. Daisuke likened it to somewhere between a groan and sigh.

“You okay? How’s your knees?”

“Physically? The best I’ve been since entering this body,” he replied, tapping his chest. “Psychologically? I suppose it’s good training for what my AI is being built for.”

“What, you have a purpose? Er- sorry, don’t take it ‘that way’,” Daisuke whispered back, hoping Ai couldn’t hear them. “I just figured… you’re a college experiment, right? They’re just building you because they  **_could_ ** or something. It’s not like any human has a prebuilt reason to live.”

“Actually, I was going to be passed off to the psychology and nursing departments eventually. I was built for hospice work.”

“You mean… comforting people before they die?”

K1-b0 nodded silently, his eye lights bobbing in the darkness.

“So that's why they want you in a killing game. Me and Ace look after you and you… monitor us as the bodies start piling.”

“A morbid thought but yes, as that's what I’m being designed for in the real world. All of us are under study for various things, aren’t we?”

“Yeah. It’s… such a weird thing to think about. And then they’ll just watch most of us die… wait. K1-b0 what about you? You have snapshots on that supercomputer.” It’s not an accusation, but Daisuke knows it sounds like one.

“Yes, but the way it’s designed… if I- that is the me inside this android body- were to cease functioning,  **_I_ ** would as well. Those prior versions… they’re more like twins. They’re not me, the minute they’re partitioned off. They can already think independently, if their core logic were turned on, which I don’t recall it is, as Keisuke sent me in time-out last night...” K1-b0 chuckled at that. “I’m an offshoot of an existing AI myself. We’ve even chatted. It’s as though we have the same childhood, but were separated and raised quite differently.”

“So the concept of K1-b0 would live but you…?”

“I specifically would die if killed. Same as you. Though depending on how recently I’m backed up, the difference is extremely minor. I’ve been told that within the dome I may be able to send signal out, but I will not have access to my own collective consciousness and memories back in the terminal. That’s… probably no small solace.”

“Honestly, no it’s not.”

K1-b0’s hand is on Daisuke’s head, gently stroking his hair and separating the clumps stuck together with gel. Daisuke shudders. It feels nice, but he’s not used to all the attention he’s been getting the last few days.

Somehow, despite seeing K1-b0 overheat as many times as he had already, he wasn’t expecting him to be so warm, with a gentle sound of a fake heartbeat to boot.

“I don’t think I’m the only one who’s touch starved. You, Rei-chan- she smacked me pretty hard this afternoon while you were in recovery. And she asked me to sit with her a while! The nerve!” He smiles at no-one in the darkness, pulling Daisuke a little closer as the small boy begins to quietly sob.

It’s idle chatter. K1-b0’s just doing what he was designed to- comfort those about to die.

* * *

Daisuke wakes up in his bed, fumbling for the glasses taken from him. There’s a small contacts case in the clown mask instead this morning. He’d put it there before he’d gone to sleep- the first time. Blearily, he rubs the crust from his eyes.

He’d taken them out without much thought the night before, and, like a zombie, he goes to the changing room to put his eyes back on.

* * *

There’s a bulletin board in the common room, sixteen pixel sprites tacked to it with papers. He recognizes the eight from the boxes in the boys changing room, so the other eight are the girls. Most he recognized. Angie’s white hair and darker skin. Tenko’s ridiculous twin tails. He assumed the one with the witch hat was Himiko- Hikaru had her hair dyed bright red.

He found Kokichi’s face. Not his, he reminded himself, looking at the smiling pixel sprite with clear skin and an oversized bandana. It was his schedule for the day.

He had another session in the memory room right after breakfast, then two hours after marked RECOVERY, some free time marked in alternating green/grey lines until lunch (probably extra time to recover if needed), and a SKILL CHECK blocked out in blue for two hours in the afternoon, the rest of his time in green and free.

He scanned the other sheets. K1-b0’s only had meal times blocked out, the rest marked off as free time. Same for Rantaro. Some people had refittings for their costumes, the one with the music notes in her hair (Maiya/Kaede, he assumed) had skill tests.

Kaito had no memory room time blocked out today, but he did have a flight sim.

Lucky bastard.

Daisuke quickly scanned if anyone else was blocked for the same time in the room as him. Tenko… and Shuichi. The pixel sprite even wore Mamoru’s faded school hat. Shuichi got to keep it in the costume. That was kind of cute.

So he could try and talk to Ai again. Daisuke checked the wall clock. 6am. He’d always been something of an early riser, and breakfast wasn’t till 9. Looked like they’d come and wake everyone in about two hours- people like Jiro and Tenko probably needed time to get ready in the morning.

Daisuke went back to the bunks, did his hair and face and decided to just stay in pajamas. If they demanded he put on something more formal he would, but if he was going to get another dose of memory light he was doing it on his terms- in sweatpants and an oversized tee.

Maybe he could go help make breakfast or something. Sitting around in the dorms in the dark didn’t sound like his idea of fun.

* * *

With a yawn, he entered the kitchens. Three staff members were already scurrying around the space, making rice in industrial cookers. Okayu. Probably a good idea for him to have it himself, if he was going under right after. He needed to eat something, at least. Maybe some dry toa- Ririn?

“It’s early o clock, what are you doing?” Daisuke asked, as he fished around for ingredients.

Ririn wasn’t answering, and with her holding a paring knife in her hands, Daisuke wasn’t going to press the issue. She was working almost mechanically, peeling vegetables, and sorting them into large stainless steel bowls. Carrots, potato, more carrots, more potato.

She was like a robot on an assembly line, peeling curry vegetables.

The moment she’d peeled her last carrot; she swept up the shavings, tossed them, and began cutting. The slices were perfectly even, her form like something on a cooking show. And she was blindingly fast.

Metal body and face markings aside, Daisuke was pretty sure that K1-b0 was getting more human, while the humans…

Well, he didn’t want to think about it too much.

* * *

Breakfast was quiet, and most of them had done what Daisuke had- there wasn’t much a reason to get dressed up in blouses or slacks or polos. Sweatpants, shift dresses…

But everyone had done their hair and face. It was almost compulsive. Daisuke was sure that if they walked away with anything, it was the separation between themselves and the characters that were temporarily inhabiting them.

Tenko and Shuichi both sat with Daisuke- they must have seen they’d be scheduled together. Both were silent. Daisuke reached out and squeezed Shuichi’s hand, and noticed his eyes were brown, not dull gold. He understood. It was still Ai- she hadn’t put in her contacts. Not that Daisuke cared.

K1-b0 flitted between the small cliques that seemed to form, offering to grab food or clear plates so he wasn’t just standing- actually, it was so that he could squat and kneel as much as possible. Daisuke looked at his handiwork and smiled.

Ace sat alone.

* * *

Five sets of footfalls walked to the memory room. Aside from the three about to get another exposure, Arukawa guided them there, as well as K1-b0.

“It won’t affect me, so can I keep everyone company?” he’d asked.

“As long as you don’t get in the way of the emitters,” Arukawa had said. “I think it would be a good idea. Plus, we’ll need to move everyone out. I’m sure Hirota-kun could use another strong person to help.”

“That reminds me, my specifications will mostly be locked within the game, won’t they?”

“It would be too unfair otherwise. Your vision, hearing, strength, and speed will be capped to that of an average human’s yes, but you’re free to break your code or modify yourself as you see fit within the game, or request someone else do it,” Arukawa replied. Daisuke assumed she was referring to Ace’s character or himself.

“You wish to see how I would cope under duress.”

“Precisely. Now then, everyone should know what to-”

“Arukawa sensei?” Ai spoke up. Tenko looked surprised.

“Shuichi-kun, did something happen to you voice? Do you need some soda water?” Arukawa asked, concerned.

“It’s… Ai…” Ai replied, sheepishly.

“Ah, you’ve reverted.” Arukawa didn't sound surprised.

“Is that… normal?”

“What’s unusual is how quickly both Ichiro and Keisuke took to their characters. This shouldn’t be this quick. They’ll fade in and out, you’ll get moments of inspiration that will blow out like a candle wisp in the tiniest bit of wind. We’ve refined the process over the years, but what you’re experiencing is the rule, not the exception. He’ll probably come back again today, and maybe stay a little longer. He might even come back four or five times before flickering out again. It’s called priming for a reason. It takes  **_time_ ** . It’s after seven failures that we consider it a very likely lost cause, though someone did take nine failures before it stuck before.”

“Thank you,” Ai said, sounding relieved, reaching out to squeeze Daisuke’s hand.

Everyone sat where instructed, Daisuke asked for a heated blanket this time, and was out before he’d even heard the tones.

His eyes fluttered open. Strange. There was a teenager hovering over his bed in a green sweater, over a thin white turtleneck, but the eyes immediately confused him- was the kid wearing some kind of high tech mask? Those eyes were… glowing. And then the spasm hit. His whole body seized, and he gasped for air like a fish.

The boy in the sweater seemed to know what to do, pinning him down in a way to keep him from convulsing. A nurse, maybe? Part of the student health committee?

“What’s your name?” the boy croaks. Whatever voice he was expecting, it wasn’t this. It sounds like sandpaper and his throat is raw.

For a moment, he thought he heard a high-pitched whir, like a blender set to high, but far off, as if it were running inside a metal safe.

“I am K1-b0. I am here to assist you as needed and monitor your condition.” The expression is unmoving.

“Keeeeeeebooooo?” the pained boy asks. Speaking hurts. Everything hurts.

“What is your name?” K1-b0 asks him.

“O…Ouma. Kokichi. I’m from… I’m from Kobe. Where am I?”

“Medical facility,” K1-b0 supplies, robotically. Kokichi thinks it’s too dry for the bot… wait… that’s a robot? Kokichi doesn’t know how he knows, it’s like some inner conscience supplying it to him.

“Th-thanks Keebs,” Kokichi replied, almost without thinking. Straight to a nickname, no suffix.

K1-b0 smiles at this, and kneels to be at eye level. “I promise I’ll take good care of you. Now, let me get you some water. You were screaming in your sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man guys. couple of warnings now that we are in November.
> 
> 1\. I love you all. getting reviews is literally the best thing ever and everyone who writes seems really invested in the story. it's a big factor in why i'm wiring so much so quickly. I'm Miu for reviews, people. 
> 
> 2\. expect about a 3 week hiatus. I know. I am sorry. November 16-Dec 1 I'm going to my college reunion, which means I'm flying out to Tokyo. I'll have lots of time to write on planes and trains and subways, but I don't know how often I'll be able to update, so i'll just write what I can when I'm there and you'll get chunks of new chapters when I'm home. Dem's the breaks, people. >_<
> 
> 4\. shower qwerty with some love people. she's amazing. <3 your beta reader!


	16. Pants On Fire

Kokichi heard a creak from above him.

“How is he?” a voice asked. Out of the corner of his eye, Kokichi caught a taller, lanky boy with dark navy hair sitting on a set of stairs built into the side of the bunk.  **_This_ ** was whoever was sleeping on the bunk above his own. He was wearing drawstring pants and a black tank top, and while he wasn’t as skinny as Kokichi was, he didn’t look like he had that much in the way of muscle.

“Do you remember me?” the boy was quiet, almost submissive, and looked a bit scared himself. K1-b0 was clearly keeping an eye on both of them.

“You... remind me of...” Kokichi fumbled for how he knew the kid. Then, he looked right, and saw the tacked-up photo. In the center is a kid in a white straight jacket, sitting, a clown mask covering his face completely, but he knows that’s him. Surrounding him are nine more people in matching outfits. His gang, DICE, legendary pranksters.

The names come easy.

One’s face is almost completely covered, he can see black hair peeking out the sides of his mask and he’s in a wheelchair. That’s Mamoru, his specialty is hacking cameras so they can pull off their pranks without getting caught on film.

The tall girl on the far right? That’s Momo. Her mask is completely off and he knows that rosacea-flecked face anywhere. Her makeup skills are bar none. She could make someone even pass a high security face scan.

**_That’s_ ** where he saw it, the girl standing just behind Kokichi. Her face is completely covered, too, but his mind supplies it to him. Slightly androgynous features, a short black bob, and a glittering smile.

That’s his girlfriend, Ai-chan.

“You remind me of my chief strategist,” Kokichi finally articulates. His voice is slowly returning, though he wishes the same could be said for the rest of him. He can’t even lift his arms.

K1-b0 bows out for a second, returning with ice water in a spill proof bottle.  Carefully, the white haired... was he really a robot?... lifted him up enough to let Kokichi take greedy sips from the bottle.

“Do you want some muscle relaxers? A bath?”

“Yes to everything,” Kokichi replied, feeling like more of himself come back. “A hot water bottle too, I can’t move my upper body at all.”

Somehow, he feels like he should be making a snide remark, a joke at someone’s expense- his own if not the other two boys. But he’s just too tired, too jumbled up to give any effort.

Once Kokichi finishes the bottle, K1-b0 disappears again, and the lanky kid finally hops off the steps.

“I think we both missed lunch,” he said. “Want me to go get you something from the kitchen?”

“No eating in the dorms, they had a rodent problem,” Kokichi replied. Wait, how does he know that, too? That wasn’t even phrased how he’s say it. Hell, he’d probably leave crumbs around just to get a few to stay.

But the boy just smiled, reached over, and ruffled his hair.

“What’s so funny?” Kokichi asked a little sourly. 

“K1-b0 told me you liked this. I wanted to see if he was telling the truth. I’m... I’ll admit I can be a little gullible.”

“You know some dictionaries don’t put  gullible in them,” Kokichi replied.

“Wait, really?”

“Nishishishi.” The laugh is a bit pained, but Kokichi’s happy he could poke fun at the kid. “What’s your name, subordinate?”

“I sleep above you, you know. It’s Sai… no, you’ll do it anyway. I’m Shuichi.”

K1-b0 returns, carrying a small bag.

“Hey, uh, you’re not human, are you?”

“No, I’m not. Kokichi-kun,” he sounds a little exasperated with Kokichi and quickly changes the subject. “I’m going to remove your shirt. I’m not putting you in a hot bath until you have some feeling back, otherwise if the water is too warm, you may scald yourself without realizing.”

“Yeah yeah,” Kokichi groans. “Thank you, Robo-Nurse. What, you help 1,000 messed up kids like me and they make you a real boy?”

“Kokichi-kun be aware I have access to a fairly large dispensary and the permission to use it. Don’t test me.”

“What, going to slip me some horse tranquilizers?”

“At this rate, I might. They’re rectal too,” K1-b0 replied, with a small smirk. “You’re rubbing off on me. Did you slip something in my code yesterday?”

“Of course I did, I gave you a dick,” Kokichi replied, before blinking. That  **_sounded_ ** like something he’d do, but... when did he do it?

“Oh, yes, my ‘dick sensor’,” K1-b0 sounded exasperated as he helped Kokichi out of his tee and flipped him on his back. He slid the hot water bottle wrapped in a towel under Kokichi’s stomach and repositioned his arms a little. Kokichi- and Daisuke, really, was skinny as hell under his giant shirt. K1-b0 wondered if he could completely circle his forearm by putting his thumb and pointer finger around it.

At least he wasn’t covered in faded bruises like Shuichi had been, K1-b0 mused. It took an immense amount of convincing to allow K1-b0 to unhook his binder when he noticed a large black bruise on Shuichi’s shoulder. It took dragging him down to the medical ward and personally unlocking the medicine cabinet to prove he was a staff nurse assistant and was willing to help ‘with the burn scarring’. Shuichi- and most likely due to the fading it was before he’d arrived as Ai- had a menagerie or bruises and one clear slap on their back- the rough handprint fading to a light black and yellow.

K1-b0 dutifully checked to make sure there weren’t any cracked ribs, gave him some ointment, and let Shuichi cover himself again in private.

Ai probably would have been able to explain what they were from, but it was Shuichi today, much stronger (or  **_weaker_ ** as it were). The boy was just a bundle of quiet nerves, constantly digging his nails into thighs and shaking like a leaf. And of course, Shuichi didn’t recall being hit. He didn’t have a perfect home life, but a good one with his uncle. No girlfriend, and wasn’t bullied in school. He was just Captain Anxiety.

K1-b0 would have gone so far as to prescribe medication, if it weren’t for the fact that Ai herself didn’t have any mental issues at all, despite what was clearly regular bullying or abuse.

Back to the task at hand. “I’m going to apply the muscle relaxer. It will be cold.”

“You  **_what_ ** ? I thought it was a pill.” Kokichi mumbled into his pillow.

“Topical.”

“Why couldn’t I get a massage from a fembot instead? Or an army of my underl- aurgh!” K1-b0 pressed down hard.

“Well, at least now you know you have some feeling at your deltoid,” K1-b0 replied, squatted over Kokichi. After a moment of torture, he released some of the pressure on his muscle. “I  **_will_ ** duct tape your mouth shut if you continue to backtalk me.”

“So that’s what passes for bedside manner these days,” Kokichi replied. He needed the last word in, always did. The last word  **_and_ ** the last laugh.

* * *

Kokichi slept straight through when he was supposed to get his skill check, the pain slowly giving way to numbness, then tingling. He was finally woken late in the afternoon, gently tapped by Arukawa.

“Kokichi-kun, do you need to be moved to the infirmary?” Her voice was gentle.

**_Mom_ ** , his consciousness supplied. But Kokichi knew better. He had parents. Legendary thieves. He more or less followed in their footsteps but didn’t need the money, so his group really just trolled the hell out of people.

He was particularly proud of the hack they did to YouTube last week. Every ad was replaced with a Rickroll- even the bottom banner ones.

“I... think I’m okay.”

“That’s a lie, isn’t it, Kokichi-kun.”

* * *

Daisuke woke up in a room all to himself- white sheets, and a yukata- no, scratch that- a hospital robe. Carefully, he tried to flex his fingers- no, still numb.

“Sorry for being an ass,” Daisuke frowned. K1-b0 was sitting in a chair near him, reading quietly. It was odd to consider a robot picking up a tablet and… reading. “Kokichi’s kind of a jerk, isn’t he? Um, it’s Daisuke. I think… he’s not gone, but he’s kind of just floating around in the back of my mind. It’s weird. I’m pretty sure he’s upset about something.”

“Me, likely,” K1-b0 replied, putting down his- wait, no, that was Daisuke’s- the one he’d lent K1-b0. “I was pretty mean to him.”

“No, he can take it as much as he dishes it. I think he doesn’t like Arukawa.”

“She would be his mother, of sorts,” K1-b0 supplied. “How are you doing, though?”

“Honesty hour? Like shit. Also, Kokichi agrees. Like shit.”

“Is it… like having a conversation? Having that other personality in your head?”

“I mean I can’t speak to how everyone is but, no, not really. It’s like… there’s just ideas, things you remember. But I… just know what’s not mine? When he was driving… it was… kind of like… a waking dream. I remember it all, and I knew what was happening, but… I think I could have done something if I wanted, like Ai-chan said when she was assertive for Shuichi-kun. I just… sort of didn’t exist? Kind of like right now. Everything hurts, and everything is numb. I feel… really disconnected. Like he’s still actually in charge but I’m along for the ride.”

“Now that I have a body… that’s a bit how I feel when I’m disconnected from it, sent back in the terminal” K1-b0 replied. “So I think I understand. Daisuke, are you hungry? Thirsty?”

“If I could eat, I would be.”

“I don’t think you need a feeding tube, would it be invasive if I assisted?”

“No, and I thought Rantaro-kun said this was painless. Sore, migraines, dizziness, but not paralysis.”

“I overheard the medical staff talking. They’re considering disqualifying you. This is unheard of. Nobody’s had muscle spasms nearly this bad before.”

“Thanks for the- the- the-”

Daisuke’s eyes, even through the colored contacts, seemed to glaze over a little.

“Daisuke-kun!” K1-b0 shot to attention, but was stopped by Daisuke pulling his hand out from under the sheets and holding it up.

“Uh-uh. I put him back asleep.”

K1-b0 understood immediately. “Kokichi-kun, you should  **_not_ ** be moving.”

“Oh, but, see, I  **_can_ ** move, and it doesn’t hurt at all. He and I were just fighting, that's all, and I guess the mental stress put  **_my_ ** body on lockdown. If there’s one thing I’m good at, its lock picking. I just needed to let him out for a little while so he could see how miserable he’d be without me. His little girlfriend,  **_all alone in the killing game_ ** . He needs me, so now I can take over. He’s a weakass, but it’ll do. Thanks for the massage earlier, but if you’re still offering to feed me, I’ll take that too.”

“You frighten me.”

“Oh  **_do I_ ** ?” Kokichi grinned, as he stretched and stood up out of the bed without effort. K1-b0 could see it was Daisuke’s face and features, but twisted in a mask. “ **_Good_ ** . That is literally my job. Get me my clothes, I can get my own dinner, thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Title: Ouma Is a Little Fucking Piece of Shit


	17. A Game of Kings and Pawns

K1-b0 pressed the call button, almost breaking it with force.

“Flamingo,” he said, any trace of humanity gone from his voice.

“Alpha.”

K1-b0 was quick and efficient. Before Kokichi could think, he was wheezing on his back on the bed, and K1-b0 was affixing medical grade restraints.

“What did you DO?” Kokichi growled.

“Permission to restrain. And given it’s  **_you_ ** , that probably also summoned your mothers.”

“What a cold-hearted machine,” Kokichi said wistfully, as his left arm is strapped down.

“ **Maybe** if you remembered last night, you’d remember that is blatantly a lie.”

K1-b0 sat at the foot of the bed, unblinking, crossing his arms and one leg over the other.

“Awwww so now you’re my babysitter, is that it?”

“More like your warden,” he replied sharply, staring at the purple-haired boy.

Kokichi heard the clicking of heels on tile.

Arukawa was coming.

* * *

Both Arukawa and Toki pulled up folding chairs, sitting next to each other on the side of the bed nearest Kokichi’s head.

“So.” Kokichi was expecting distaste. Anger. But all he heard was concern. Well it made some sense. Arukawa would have known what he would be like. “K1-b0, thank you for all your help today. You’re excused, and if there’s something we can do for you in tha-“

“No.” Kokichi’s reply is sharp.

“No?”

“I mean, if he wants to leave, be my guest. But I don’t really care if he stays.”

“You’re lying. You want him here.”

Kokichi sat (well, laid) stunned. “You can see right through me,” he said in shock. “I guess you probably gave me a tell, since you wrote me and all.”

Toki let out a small “meep”.

“You’re self aware, though,” Arukawa said, cocking her head. “That’s a first. As is the paralysis. I need to know what’s going on so we can make a final decision on you.”

Kokichi sighed. “Can you at least let me out and let me get in some clothes? I’ve been trapped in bed almost all day, and now it’s literally.”

“K1-b0, he’s not lying. Help me remove the restraints?” Arukawa asked politely.

* * *

Kokichi adjusted his hair in the adjoining bathroom and went back into the main infirmary room, flopping to sit on the bed.

“Okay, Mom, you made me. Now I’m sitting in front of you. Fire at will.”

“We-were you actually p-p-paralyzed today?” Toki asked. “S-sorry. I-I, characters know they went through memory altering ex-experiments but you’re the first who’s aware they’re a-a-a written character.”

“I was. Hurt like hell, too.”

“You had muscle spasms yesterday, too,” Arukawa’s words would have been accusatory if they weren’t so gentle.

“No, Daisuke did.”

No suffix. Just his name.

“So you’re not only self aware, and aware you’re a character, but you’re able to separate yourself from him completely. It can take two weeks for a fully formed personality to be independent of the host’s memory and thought. Usually the two bleed through for a while. That’s why we use what we can of existing memory in new ways, so there’s some familiarity.”

“Like how you made Ai-chan my girlfriend? So I wouldn’t be surprised about muddled memories of her,” Kokichi smirked.

“Ex-exactly.”

“Well, I’m no doctor, but I’m pretty sure the paralysis happened because neither of us wanted to budge. So I finally got to scare Daisuke straight. Thanks, K1-b0, for telling him he might be disqualified.”

“Why didn’t you back down? Normally that’s what should happen,” Arukawa asked, the tension in her shoulders disappearing. She’d gotten comfortable talking with the little would-be supervillain.

“Like Shuichi-kun? Sorry, but the question answers itself. I’m self aware of what I am. I don’t want to die. If Shuichi fades off, he probably thinks he’s going to sleep or something.”

“Self preservation?”

“Pulling me- **_us_ ** \- out of the game means I’ll die just as much as if I were killed in it. I know I haven’t stuck to Daisuke yet. I’d probably fade out like Shuichi-kun did yesterday, otherwise.”

“A-a-and your response is to be a-a-a giant jerk. I-I-I think I made you a little too wary...”

“Ehhh, what’s done is done, Mom. Glad to be alive.” Kokichi folded his arms up behind his head, cocked it and grinned. “I like how my fake-memory phantom thief Mom looks like you. A little wish fulfillment?”

“No- n-not quite.”

“Ohhhh, you’ve been on a previous season too, weren’t you?” Kokichi cocked his head side to side. “So which one runs the show now? The mousy writer or the cat burglar?”

“For most of us, Kokichi-kun, it’s... well it’s like you have a proper split personality. It’s more like a... secondary opinion for both Toki-chan and I. And anyone else who’s a survivor for that matter.”

“Is  **_everyone_ ** here a former survivor?” Kokichi said with a start. “I pegged you as one, Professor, but not the Genocider Jack reject, too.”

Toki facepalmed.

“No, I think just thirteen of us,” Arukawa replied, steering the conversation away. “Which is a lot, yes, but not a majority of the staff by a long shot.”

“So there. That’s everything I’ve got. No tricks, no lies. And I really want to know what my tell is so I can force myself not to do it.”

“N-n-not happening,” Toki replied. “I-I-I don’t even know what it is. Sensei added it.”

“Good luck getting it from me,” Arukawa said with a small smile. “Well, Mister Supreme Leader, I’m giving you a pass- you’re psychologically sound, unconventional methods aside. I  **_will_ ** require another physical from you though. If the doctor gives you an all clear, you’re welcome to stay.”

“One word of warning, Kokichi-kun. This isn’t the killing game. Not yet. Dial it back, will you? I’m not going to eradicate you, but you may fade in and out for the next few days. Don’t be so aggressive over your host or you might just end up in shock again.”

“It was the only way to get him to give up, I think it’ll be easier from now on,” Kokichi said, scratching the back of his neck. “I tried asking him politely to just back off but either it didn’t get through or he was too afraid to let go. I’m not sure how much I can really communicate with him directly.”

Arukawa sighed, but nodded in acknowledgement. “I know you’re afraid to let strangers in. Here and now, you’re safe. Relax, be a normal kid for a while. Or don’t, and sneak into the robotics lab and terrorize people with the Monokuma animatronics, because I know you. Just... don’t go full Bane on everyone? If he’s afraid to let go, back off. The manufactured personalities- even the meek ones like Shuichi- will override the base personality so long as they stick.  **_You’re_ ** clearly not going anywhere.”

“Roger, roger,” Kokichi said, grinning. “And thanks for the Monokuma idea. Didn’t even consider that.”

Arukawa pinched the bridge of her nose. “Go eat some dinner, Kokichi-kun. And try not to be  **_too_ ** much of an asshole to your cohorts, please?”

“That I can do,” Kokichi replied, grinning huge.

“See, the only reason I know you don’t have to lie is because I said asshole. I didn’t specify “troll”.”

“Awww. Little old me?  **_Troll_ ** ? I would never!”

* * *

“You asked me to stay so you could apologize without actually having to say it.” K1-b0 walked in step with Kokichi down to the great hall for dinner.

“So what if I did?”

“You also pushed Daisuke-kun to do the same on your behalf.”

“No, I didn’t. I’m just veeeeery good at reading people. I figured he would on his own.”

“Is it  **_that_ ** hard to say ‘I’m sorry’? I understand now why you did what you did. But if you keep pulling stunts like that, people  **_will_ ** hate you.”

“So? I don’t know about you, Keebs, but us humans have a pretty strong self-preservation instinct. Even fake ones like me.”

“Can you do me a favor, Kokichi-kun?” K1-b0 asked quietly, stopping outside the doors to the great hall.

“Hm?”

“Toshiro-kun calls me Keebs. I’d appreciate K1-b0, or, if you must, something else.”

“Fair deal, Keeboy.”

“ **_Keeboy_ ** ?”

“Well, how many of us fucked up kids you have to nurse to health before you get to be a  **_reeeeeal_ ** boy? A thousand? A hundred?  **_Fifteen_ ** ?”

K1-b0 made his strained servo noise, and Kokichi laughed.

“Come on, Pinocchio, I need to eat. I’m curious to see who’s woken up, too. And... I’m sorry.”

* * *

Tenko was talking.

Actually, scratch that. She was  **_livid_ ** .

“De-gen-er-ate  **_MALE_ ** ! You do  **_NOT_ ** touch Tenko without Tenko’s permission!”

Kokichi’s jaw was to the floor.

So was everyone else’s for that matter.

Poor Shuichi was stuttering, embarrassed. A plate of fried udon was overturned on the tatami floor. 

Hikaru stepped between them.

“Tenko-chan, Shuichi-kun is very very sorry. Why don’t you sit with... sit with Tsumugi-chan and I’ll get you some more yaki udon?”

Tenko blinked for a moment, and, in a 180* turn on temperament, smiled, said “Okaaaaaay, Himiko-taaaaan,” and skipped to sit with Natsu-Tsumugi.

Kokichi decided just to call everyone by their characters at this point. It was going to be far too complicated otherwise. The ones who hadn’t woken up yet would understand. 

“Kokichi-kun! You’re actually standing!” A hard hit to his back. Kaito. Of  **_course_ ** . “It’s wild, man. Tenko-chan starts talking and she’s already at Shuichi-kun’s throat. But how are you doing? We’ll all have some guys only time tonight.”

“Another bath?” Kokichi asked, eyebrow raised.

“Well, I mean, you were gurney’d out to the infirmary earlier. How do you not- oh. You had some memory room time today didn’t you? Messed you up a bit?”

“More like a  **_lot_ ** .”

“You recovered quick.”

“It was psychosomatic. And it still smarts. Hey. What if we did something-  **_all_ ** of us- tonight?”

“What? All sixteen of us?”

“Yeah. You’ve been pretty good about making sure the guys feel welcome but...” Kokichi looked over to Miu, sitting alone again. “The girls...”

“Dude. For a supervillain, you ain’t half bad.”

“How do you think I’ve avoided the slammer for so long?”

“Well you make friends in the... right... places...”

Kokichi swept his hand along the tableau of their cohorts. “The best astronaut in training? The best aikido master? The best inventor? Once we’re done, if you’re useful, I’d recruit you all to work under me.”

“Point taken, squirt. If you’d get me to space, I’d take it.”

“Careful with that phrasing or I might forget to let you land again,” Kokichi replied with a smirk.

* * *

“Okay, which one of you bastards is the king?” Miu shouts to the crowd, sitting in something of a large circle in the common room.

“Gonta have red chopstick.” The giant is in pajamas, perched on one of the comfy chairs next to K1-b0, who dragged his charging dock into the common room so everyone was roughly sitting at eye level. 

“What does Gonta do now?”

“Well, you make people do stuff. Everyone else has a number on their stick. So like, say ‘number 3 has to tell me their most embarrassing school memory’.”

“Um.... Gonta ask number 10 what their favorite food is?”

“Laaaaaaame,” Himiko droned.

“Be nice,” K1-b0 chided. “I have a feeling this is going to escalate quickly anyway.”

Tenko held up her chopstick.

“I’m sorry! It wasn’t lame!” Himiko backtracked.

“I... I like sweet bean buns,” Tenko said brightly. “My master used to make them after I finished my training.”

“Okay, you buncha losers. Chopsticks to me, numbers or red dot facing down to the floor.” Miu was giddy, and Kokichi smiled a little, dropping his 6 into her palm. “Round two! Ready? I’m coming around.”

Miu did a quick jog around the perimeter, giving everyone a chance to grab a new stick, leaving her the last one.

“I’m the king!” Tsumugi shot up. “Um... um... I’m giving #9 a cosplay makeover!”

Quiet giggling ensued as some of the group peek at their number.

“Is... this a six or a nine?” Shuichi held out his stick.

“No dot. It’s a nine, you lucky dog!”

“Hey, it’s a repeat of that mission from two months ago!” Kaito shouted as Tsumugi grinned evilly, dropped her chopstick at Miu’s feet, and dragged Shuichi to the girl’s dorm, helpless in her grasp. She practically foamed at the mouth as the door slammed.

“Um, we’re two short...”

“Okay, well, Poo-ichi left behind his 9, so until they’re back, only call 1-13 if you’re the king?”

Another round of chopsticks pass, and Korekiyo waves his for all to see. “As king upon this domain,” he starts jokingly and dramatically, “I command number seven to perform their best trick. The catch is- it cannot be their ultimate talent. Something else.”

Kokichi flicked his chopstick in the air and caught it, pointing his number outwards. “Gotta grab something from my bunk, hold on.” In a moment, Kokichi is back, holding a large wooden top.

“So I know Himiko-chan is the greatest magician in the world,” Kokichi said with a flourish of the toy.

“Mage,” she corrected.

“Greatest  **_mage_ ** . Well I’m not a half bad warlock myself.” Kokichi spun the top on the back of his palm. “Well, see, that’s hard for sure, but spinning a top on an uneven surface isn’t exactly what I’d call magic, just good dexterity.”

“This, on the other hand...” Kokichi added, flinging his palm so that the spinning top flew off into midair, put his other hand under it, palming a tiny rare earth magnet. The top floated a few centimeters above his hand.

“That’s not magic, just a good wrist and a magnet,” Himiko whined.

“Oh, you caught me!” Kokichi replied, holding his hands up and letting the top fall to the ground, and the magnet discreetly down his sleeve where it was attracted to another one attached on the inside. Kokichi showed his palms from both sides. “Or you would have, if I had one.”

“No rubber thumb? Not up your sleeve?”

Kokichi put his arms to his sides, and shook them, feeling the pair of magnets smack his elbow, then rolled up the sleeves. “Nope. And do you see a rubber thumb?” he added, walking close to Himiko and bending down so she could tug at his shirt and hands.

“Well... maybe you  **_are_ ** a warlock. But only level one. Two at best.”

“Thank you, thank you!” Kokichi replied, bending to take a bow, and letting an entire deck of aces scatter to the ground. “I really should get a Roomba. Hey Keeboy, wanna be useful and clean this up?”

K1-b0 made an exasperated groan of his servos, but bent over to pick up the cards. Kokichi reached over and pulled an isopropanol coated rag from his headphone-shaped ear. “Huh. I was expecting a handkerchief, but I guess this makes sense. Everyone clap for my beautiful assistant! I’ll get this mess, K1-b0.”

“I’m actually impressed,” K1-b0 whispered. “Want to show me how you did that later?”

“Maaaaaybe...” Kokichi said as he scooped up the props. “Someone want to get the door for me?”

By the time Kokichi was back in the common room, Tsumugi was waiting, barring the door to the girl’s dorm.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present, for the remainder of the king’s game.... Chrom!”

A jiggle of the handle later and a quiet “I can’t get it open with these gloves on,” and Tsumugi flung open the door for Shuichi.

King’s game indeed. Shuichi walked out in partial plate armor, knee high men’s medieval boots, pants, a blue sleeveless coat, gloves, a giant belt, and a cape. He even had a fake tattoo on one arm, where his large shoulder bruise had been earlier that day- probably covered in concealer then a darker shade of makeup for the emblem.

“Awww, I was expecting like a magical girl, I would have totally worn what you got,” Kaito whined, gesturing at the outfit. “Shuichi-kun looks like a badass.”

“You should see the sword Tsumugi-chan made...” Shuichi replied, embarrassed. “Is it okay to sit in this?”

“It’s meant for a day on a con floor, sitting down is nothing,” Tsumugi said, beaming. “I just made it today. I didn’t realize how perfectly it would fit you!”

“You look like you walked out of an RPG,” Miu added, smacking him gently on the non-armored shoulder as he passed back to his seat.

“Then I’ve done my job,” Tsumugi said with pride.

Another round, and Angie was king.

“I get to paint #2’s face!”

“Oh  **_come on_ ** !” Kaito groaned.

“Make him reeeeeaaaaal pretty, Angie-chan!” Kokichi jeered.

* * *

The night eventually ended after K1-b0 ordered Tenko and Ryoma to compete in a no-hands allowed pie eating contest, erupting in a room of laughter. Even Rantaro was on the floor after Kaede wrote... surprisingly lewd things on Miu’s forehead that she wasn’t allowed to see.

Kokichi looked over his shoulder. There was a single blinking light reminding him they were all being watched.

He knew what his purpose was. If he tried really hard, he could rifle through Daisuke’s actual memories.

Daisuke was being studied to see if he could break the memory wipe on his own after he was completely under. 

Kokichi knew.

His whole existence was made specifically to be killed off.

**_Self preservation indeed._ **


	18. Nein, Nein, Nein

Kokichi yawned, put in his contacts, dressed, did his hair and face.

6:10 am. Of course. He wasn’t Daisuke, but his body clock certainly was. 

He went to the common room and checked the schedule that day. No memory room for him, but surprisingly Rantaro did- only a short 15-minute session immediately after breakfast, alone. Probably didn’t need much to snap fully back into character- sounded like he was most of the way there.

Maybe it would help with the depression.

Shuichi had another session, late afternoon, with Kaito and Angie.

Tsumugi, Kirumi, and Korekiyo were the only other ones that day, immediately after Rantaro. It seemed like they staggered people for the most part, giving days of rest in between.

It wasn’t as though Kokichi had an empty schedule- not even Rantaro or K1-b0 did that day. K1-b0 had a summons back to the robotics labs after breakfast, and other than the short memory session, Rantaro had a four-hour skill check, with no lunch time blocked out at all.

For that matter, so did Shuichi and Kokichi.

Kokichi also had a box drawn around an hour and a half of free time late afternoon, SKILL CHECK scrawled on in permanent marker- probably the one he’d missed yesterday as a make-up session. 

But what was with the massive one in the late morning?

It almost seemed like the three boys were being checked... together.

“I saw them put in the schedule around four AM when they cleaned up the common room.” K1-b0’s voice. He sat in his dock, and it was hard to tell if the thing was comfortable, with his head and neck clamped shut in the chair. His eyes were glowing pure white, without pupils or irises.  **_Creepy_ ** . “Could you do me a favor and hit the emergency release? I only needed two hours to top off but it won’t release me until the cycle is completely finished. It’s a high amp charger so just getting out risks ruining my ports.”

“Uh, you trust me with that?”

“More than I thought I would initially, yes. And I was so bent on having you apologize to me yesterday I didn’t give you the same courtesy. You- we aren’t all that different. Made by other people to fill a role, and rewritten as needed. I think I was a little too hard on you, Kokichi-kun.  **_Dick-kun._ ** ”

“You  **_wound_ ** me, Keeboy,” Kokichi said dramatically before snapping to normal. “Is it this blue switch on the back?”

“Yes, you need to hold it until I say so.” Kokichi pressed, hearing the contact pins disengage one by one. “I’m free. You can let go.”

“I don’t see any holes in your face. Where the heck are the charging sockets?”

“The clamps are just to keep my head aligned. Here.”

K1-b0 rolled down his collar to show six small ports, about the size of headphone jacks, surrounding the emergency off switch Daisuke had seen Keisuke use on the back of the robot’s neck.

K1-b0 rolled his collar back up. His eyes had already returned to normal. 

“Does it taste good?” Kokichi joked. K1-b0 groaned, the teeth of one of his servos chipping inside.

“And that’s why I have this,” he said, looking at the schedule and tapping his section. “I asked for some more emotes so I don’t ruin my servos expressing displeasure. It actually bothers me that they gave me laughter, but not disdain. I suppose it makes sense, given my purpose, but still...”

“Miu-chan is blocked out at the same time as a skill check- you think they’re going to have her install it?”

“And design it too, probably. She’s... getting a little  **_too_ ** lewd, but her heart is in the right place.”

“Just make sure she doesn’t put an actual dick on you then,” Kokichi smirked.

K1-b0’s white plastic face glowed beet red. “I’m not- I’m not an adult toy!” he squeaked out.

Kokichi patted him on the back, grinning evilly. “Dude, you can heat up your fingers and give a mean massage. I bet they vibrate too.”

“Ko-KOKICHI! That. IS.  **_NOT_ ** .  **_MY_ ** .  **_PURPOSE_ ** !”

“Nishishishi, at this rate you’ll wake up everyone!”

“You  **_revel_ ** in watching me squirm,” K1-b0 whined, putting Kokichi in a headlock and giving him a gentle noogie.

“How’d you guess?”

* * *

“I’m taking everything from you three but the clothes on your backs,” Arukawa said, looking over the three boys in the great hall once Rantaro got back from his memory session. It didn’t even look like it had phased him at all. In fact, it was the happiest he’d looked since before Kokichi existed and Daisuke had come to the facility.

“Watches, tablets, anything other than your clothes. Your lock-picks, Kokichi-kun.”

Kokichi sighed, and handed over the ring.

“Your  **_other_ ** set of lock-picks, Kokichi-kun.”

Kokichi sighed louder, and emptied out everything he had with an exaggerated show of annoyance.

Shuichi was wearing that beat up hat over his hair today, complaining his cowlick wouldn’t cooperate, and adjusted it nervously as Kokichi continued to pull out tools from every pocket on his person.

“Done?” Arukawa asked, a brow raised.

Kokichi patted himself down, pulled out a pocketknife, and threw it aside. “Now I am.”

“Blindfold for each of you, you don’t need to put it on yet. You can see where we’re going.”

“Kinky,” Kokichi remarked, taking his, and twirling it on a finger. “What is this, a trust exercise?”

“Of a sort. Come on, we’re heading to the robotics wing.”

* * *

“Okay then, Kokichi, this is your door. One moment.”

The three boys stood in front of an unassuming door near K1-b0’s lab. Kokichi saw Miu busily drafting something while looking over her shoulder at K1-b0, stripped to his metal exoskeleton and laying comfortably on his workbench on the way over, giving the two of them the thumbs up as they passed the glass wall of the lab.

“Blindfold? All three of you, please.” “Kokichi stopped playing with the elastic and handed his over. Two staff members came to meet the group, and affixed their blindfolds for them.

“So you don’t cheat,” Arukawa chided.

“See I want to win fair and square here,” Kokichi replied. “What’s the fun in cheating if I can actually figure out what you want us to do?”

“I’m taking your hand, Kokichi-kun, Shuichi-kun and Rantaro-kun, please follow your staff member’s instructions.”

“We’re splitting up?” Kokichi asked, as he heard a hiss, like decompression.

“You’ll see.”

“Right now, that’s not much at all,” he joked as he was guided a few steps forward before Arukawa let go of his hand.

He heard another hiss, and then the world went silent. Kokichi stood, waiting.

“You can take off your blindfold, kid.”

Kokichi’s breath hitched. He  **_knew_ ** that voice.

It was Monokuma.

* * *

Carefully, Kokichi undid the knots, and pulled off the blindfold.

The room was white, no visible entry. There were a few glowing colored buttons with emoji- type pictures affixed on the walls- a pink one with a music note, a blue one with a speaker symbol, a green one with headphones. The only other thing he could see was a speaker inset in the wall.

“What, an escape the room game?” Kokichi asked aloud to the air. 

No answer. Kokichi walked over to the button with the speaker symbol, and pressed it. On the opposite corner of the room, a giant metal spike shot out from the ground with a THUNK sound, then slowly lowered and disappeared into the floor.

Nope. Not  **_that_ ** thing. He pressed the music note button. Thankfully, no death trap.

It didn’t seem like anything happened, but Kokichi pressed it again and held it. Maybe this was the intercom. “Hellooooooo?”

Nothing. Kokichi felt around the walls for a hidden switch when...

“Kokichi-kun, was that you?” Rantaro.

“No, it’s Shuichi - **_sigh_ ** \- yes it’s me, Rantaro-kun.”

So, the pink was an intercom. “Shuichi-kun? Press your blue button to talk to us.”

“Wait no,” Kokichi cut in. “That makes a spike shoot out of the floor. Try the pink one.”

A few moments of silence.

“Hey!” Shuichi sounded a little agitated “You both lied.”

“Maybe our buttons do different things?” Rantaro asked. “What did your pink one do?”

“Spike in the floor. I thought Kokichi was just messing with me, but the blue one wasn’t an intercom either.”

“Ummm...” Kokichi looked behind him. “A giant shelf is unfolding out of my wall. Hey, I’m going to press my green one- both of you watch out. I don’t know what it’s going to do, but I’m guessing stuff in our rooms affect each other.”

Kokichi let go of his intercom, and pressed his green button. “Uh, my ceiling is opening up,” Rantaro said over the speaker. “I’m going off a for moment. Shuichi-kun, my guess is something coming out of your floor then. Watch your step.”

“So. If we want to do anything in our own rooms we need to make someone else do it,” Kokichi noted. “And I don’t know about your- whatever you have- but I can’t reach mine and talk on the speaker at the same time. The button is too far and I don’t have anything to tape it down with. So I can’t look at what I have and talk at the same time. Which I think is the point.”

“Exactamundo!”

“Monokuma, shut up,” Rantaro said, exasperated. “Okay, so- we look at our stuff one at a time then?”

“You were right, Rantaro-kun, something came out of the floor,” Shuichi added. “it... looks like a safe.”

Kokichi let go of his button and went to look at the shelf that had materialized. It had what seemed to be an old ship’s wheel with symbols, and a mess of maps with a roll of clear plastic and dry erase markers.

Locked drawers. Of course Kokichi didn’t have his tools.

“I have... cartography tools,” Kokichi said, sourly.

“I’ve got like... this giant chem set,” Rantaro replied. “One of these things is labeled luminol?”

“Did they give us the wrong rooms?” Shuichi asked quietly. “That’s a forensics kit.”

“No, they didn’t,” Kokichi replied. “Think about the setup. We can’t use the stations and talk at the same time. We have to use our skills and coordinate. Which one of these are we going to solve first?”

“You all know you’re on a timer, right?” The high-pitched annoyance spoke up.

“Four hours, right?” Rantaro said sighing.

“You overstuffed teddy,” Kokichi added in for good measure.

“You are  **_no_ ** fun, you know that? Yeah. Four hours.”

“It’s not like there’s a punishment if we don’t finish in time… is there?” Shuichi sounded apprehensive.

“What kind of game would it be otherwise?”

“Well, it’s not like you can do much to us, not before the killing game actually starts. And I know you’re just being voiced from a soundbooth in here, probably close by,” Kokichi said, rolling his eyes.

“Suck  **_alllllll_ ** the fun out of it, why don’tcha?  **_Fine_ ** , I’ll do something a little different than usual.  **_Positive_ ** reinforcement, that's a first- don't go getting used to it. Get out during the allotted time and… hm. I’ll have to check with my boss for an appropriate reward. I’ll get back to you on that. But,” the disembodied voice added with a sigh, “you’re right, I’m not going to penalize you if you fail. It’s a skill test after all, not an entrance exam. Don’t worry about disappointing me if you fail, worry about disappointing each other.”

Kokichi used the time the homicidal bear (who was probably voiced by some damn intern from the squeaky sound of it) rambled on to go and look at the contents of his foldout shelf. There was a book of tides, and some maps, which he realized were glued in place. He couldn’t lift the book or the maps off the shelf, just the clear acetate sheet and markers. He could spin the ship wheel clockwise or counter, and made sure to put it back to its starting point once he finished.

“Okay, the understuffed kid’s toy done? Good, Timer. Shuichi-kun, I want you to start poking at your safe and notice anything weird about it, okay? Pull on everything. I’ve got a general idea of what my puzzle is but I’m going to need Rantaro-kun to walk me through it.”

“Roger,” Shuichi replied.

“Okay, what do you see?” Rantaro asked.

“I have some nautical maps, glued on a shelf, so I can’t move them. I mean,  **_glued_ ** . Like they poured clear resin on top. I’d need a hammer. There’s also a tides page open, and I have some acetate, so I can draw out a path. I’m assuming I need to navigate the map waters without running aground.”

“I wish I could see it, but that sounds likely. Is there a clock in there?”

“15 hundred hours. And my speed is fifteen knots, whatever that means,” Kokichi added, looking at a little old-timey needle speedometer bouncing around on the desk.

“Fifteen nautical miles an hour, so every time you move fifteen miles, the tides are going to change. So, look at the tides page, start from 3 PM, move fifteen miles where it’s safe closer to your goal- if you have one, then check the tides for 4 pm and keep going.”

“Okay, I’ll give that a shot. Shuichi-kun, help Rantaro-kun since I can’t work and talk.”

Kokichi ran to his shelf, and slid the acetate over the first map, as well as a ruler, provided with the setup. 10cm equaled 15 knots exactly on the legend, so Kokichi cross referenced the tides table as he drew his lines, an invisible maze on the map with walls he was starting to see as the tide lowered, limiting his movement options toward the goal.

He was passing through symbols on the map, too. So  **_that_ ** was what the wheel was for.

“No, no,” he heard Shuichi whine quietly. “Tap the jar gently, otherwise you’ll knock all the dust off. You want a clean print and…”

Kokichi looked at his handiwork on the first of the three maps. Done. He hit the “GO” button next to the captain’s wheel and ocean sounds began to play. He turned the wheel to the first symbol and held it there, and the clock on the shelf ticked forward by an hour. He moved it to the next, and it added another hour. Eight more symbols later, and he heard a tugboat’s blare, and one of the cabinet drawers dropped open, and the wheel spun wildly out of control. He let go, and it settled with a new symbol as the starting one on top.

The inside of the drawer said “ **_CAREFULLY_ ** ”

“Does that thing have a light-switch?”

Kokichi mapped out the second one quickly.

“Gah it’s dark in here, Shuichi-kun I can’t… oh is this glowing thing a bloodstain?”

Another press of the GO button and Kokichi navigated the fake ship until another drawer panel dropped open.

**_BREAK_ **

“I’m pretty sure the butler did it, the prints match and there’s a stain roughly the size of his thumb on the hammer. I don’t know how to-“

The final navigation puzzle. But Kokichi kept getting stuck. At the 8 PM mark, he would always run aground.

“Monokuma, there’s no way for me to put in my answer.”

“Yes, there is,” the irritating squeak retorted. “Look over your evidence again.”

“Can I cut in?” Kokichi asked. “I solved the first two but I’m stuck on the third.”

“Is there something different about it?” Rantaro asked.

“Yeah, five moves in and every option runs me aground.”

“Do you  **_have_ ** to move every hour? If you know a low tide is coming, wait it out.”

Kokichi smacked his forehead, and ran back to his own puzzle. He only needed to get to the destination by 4AM, but he was close enough to the end that he could do nothing for a few hours while the tides rose back up.

“Oh  **_shit_ ** .” It sounded like Rantaro himself came to a realization. “I have to call the police! Duh. I’m an ordinary citizen. I can't arrest anyone, and the bloody phone should dial. Hold on, if that doesn’t work, I’ll be right back to bang heads.”

Kokichi heard the satisfying foghorn, and the third drawer opened.

**_SHUICHI’S_ **

And the top of the shelf slammed shut, leaving only the three drawers with words behind.

**_CAREFULLY BREAK SHUICHI’S_ **

“Okay, Officer?” Rantaro must be on the phone with the ‘officer’ to solve his puzzle, and somehow stretched to press his intercom so everyone could hear. “Yeah, there was a murder. I’m pretty sure it was the butler. His fingerprints are on the piece of art that was supposed to be on its way to the museum and- no, I ran a luminol test. That's exactly it- it left behind a thumb with no print. So, the person wore gloves. And while anyone could, there’s maroon fiber left behind. No, I’m not sure I’m right, but I didn’t tamper with the scene itself, and I made sure to wear rubber gloves before touching anything. …Am I certain? No. Of course not.”

“Be more confi-” Kokichi hissed into his intercom.

“Oh, yes, I followed all procedure,” Rantaro continued. “But shouldn’t this person get due process? They might have been framed. There’s a few people I suspect but it’s just too… it feels planted.”

“Of course it feels planted, it's a goddamn escape the room game,” Kokichi hissed.

“Thank you officer! Keep the piece of art and the phone? Okay. Got it. I’ll back away from the home kit.”

“Wait,  **_what_ ** ? Letting the police handle it is the  **_right answer_ ** ?” Kokichi asked incredulously.

“Kokichi-kun, that’s what us private detectives are supposed to do. We consult, then hand over the case,” Shuichi said quietly. “And didn’t your puzzle require lateral thinking as well?”

“So, the phone doesn’t work anymore. It’s locked on a standby screen and just says  **_PRICELESS VASE_ ** . And everything else retracted. I just have this vase and phone. No, it’s not a cell phone, it's a wall unit with a text display. I pressed the intercom with my foot and stretched to it.”

Shuichi laughed a little.

“Finishing my puzzle shut the boat cockpit and left three drawers open that say  **_CAREFULLY BREAK SHUICHI’S_ ** ,” Kokichi piped in.

“I don't have a priceless vase in my room, though. Just this massive safe, and a ring of these weird files and metal needle things. They all have words on them.”

“I… think I need to teach you how to lock-pick over the phone.”

* * *

“Got it,” Shuichi finally came back on the intercom. “But the safe is empty.”

“You said the tools all had words on them though, right?”

“Oh…. Um, yeah. The ones I ended up needing were the ones saying “ **_AND_ ** ”, “ **_RANTARO’S_ ** ”, and “ **_VAULT_ ** ”. One of those and’s was on a tool.”

Carefully break Shuichi’s and Rantaro’s vault priceless vase?

**_Carefully break Shuichi’s vault and Rantaro’s priceless vase_ **

“Remember the buttons that released a spike out of the floor?” Kokichi asked. “Shuichi-kun, if that safe can move, move it on top of where it should come out. Ditto for Rantaro-kun and the vase.”

“Wait what?” Shuichi asked, worried.

“The answer is to smash them.”

“Ohhhhh, I got it, ‘ **_Carefully break Shuichi’s vault and Rantaro’s priceless vase_ ** ‘,” Rantaro replied. “Hold on a sec.”

“It's heavy, so hang on,” Shuichi added.

And then Kokichi heard a hiss, and the far wall, which seemed completely smooth, began to move.

* * *

Another, larger white room, with a panel of buttons on one side. Momokuma was sitting in a swivel chair, looking bored.

“So, where’s Shuichi-kun and Rantaro-kun? Or were they never there to begin with? Were you just testing me on receiving and giving orders like a leader?”

“Eeeeh, who said this test is even over? I don’t see a door out, do you?”

“One of those two,” Kokichi replied, pointing to two more indentations in the wall in the larger room that looked similar to the one connecting to his map room.

“No, those are your partners’ doors.”

“But… oh, I guess it only lets me out, and I have to…”

“Kokichi-kun? Are you still stuck in your room?” Shuichi. He can hear it back from his room’s intercom, so Kokichi runs back into his starting room and presses his own button.

“No, I’m out in a larger room with Monokuma. Your two rooms are still locked, right?”

“Mine is open to a great room with Monokuma. Yours and Rantaro’s are still sealed.”

“Ditto for you two,” Rantaro chipped in.

“This is some serious 999 shit,” Kokichi groaned.

“Oh? I never said the three of you were partners with  **_each other_ ** . What makes you think you’re the only one’s playing…?” Monokuma interjected, jeering.

“The three of us are actually in three separate escape rooms, aren’t we?” Kokichi was asking the Monokuma in the bigger room, but kept his call button on so the other two could hear. “So, either those two other indents we all saw lead out, or…”

Rantaro cut in. “Or we’re actually waiting on two more sets of three to finish their small rooms, so we can get our new partners.”

“Ding! We have a winner!” Monokuma cried.

“But nobody else had this on their schedules.”

“Yeah and guess what schedules  **_aren’t_ ** ? Set in stone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I can't thank y'all enough. Your reviews give me life.
> 
> I want to illustrate some of this, so I'm going to sketch out some of the scenes on my flight.
> 
> Expect 1-3 more chapters before I leave, and a bunch when I'm back.


	19. Fighting the System

“Hey,” Kokichi piped up. You guys don’t have writing implements, do you? I’m going to start sketching a floor plan. If we’re nine people this is going to get-“

Kokichi heard the sound of decompression.

“Company,” Rantaro commented. 

“Gonta-kun? Kaito-kun?” A young woman asked in mild panic. 

“I’ve got Kaede-chan,” Kokichi said. “Give me a sec.”

“Gonta,” Shuichi added.

Kokichi let go of his button. “Surprise!” he said, as he snuck up behind his new cohort. She jumped and screamed.

“Goddamnit, Kokichi-kun, really?! What are you doing here?”

“Don’t you remember last night? I’m a level two warlock.”

Kaede sighed audibly and rolled her eyes. “Just tell me what you did to Kaito-kun and Gonta-kun.”

“Nothing. We’re in three separate escape games. My own two partners are split up too. And anyway... how are you  **_not_ ** the last group out?  **_Gonta-kun_ ** was with you.”

“He’s  **_naive_ ** , not stupid, Kokichi-kun. He just spent a lot of time in the forest, away from people. Doesn’t mean he can’t think critically.”

“Ouch, right in the jugular,” Kokichi cried, clutching his neck in mock agony.

“Can you take this a little more seriously?”

“Well, I was going to sketch out our room layout before your door opened... actually. Hey, Monokuma. I don’t know if you can answer. My room has a giant metal spike trap in it. It was impossible to accidentally impale myself, but now we have multiple people. What happens if a person stands over the trap while another person presses the trigger?”

“You want to find out?” the toy asked, smirking.

“Sure. I’d love to be a shish-kebab. Was getting hungry for lunch anyway. Hey, Kayday, want to commit murder on little ol’ me?”

Kaede rubbed her temple. “It’s not my fault if you get skewered. But really? Your room had a  **_spike trap_ ** in it?”

“It was the solution to our puzzle to unlock our three doors. We had to break some of the stuff in our rooms.”

“Who were you with?”

“Shuichi-kun and Rantaro-kun. Gonta-kun is with the former, Kaito-kun is-“

“HELLO EVERYBODY!”

**_Goddamnit, Kaito_ ** , Kokichi thought to himself.

Kokichi pressed his intercom. “We’re each still missing one, you know. Hold your horses.”

Kokichi didn’t envy Rantaro in the slightest, as he pressed the blue button to show Kaede the trap.

“I’ll put my hand out, so I have enough time to snap back if it activates.”

“You’re sure?”

“Just do it before I change my mind.”

Kaede pressed, and a buzzer sounded. “LIVING PERSON DETECTED WITHIN SENSOR.”

“Okay, so Keeboy isn’t in the last set,” Kokichi noted.

“Why would you assume that?” Kaede asked.

“Well, it depends on how they’re detecting something being alive. If it’s heat generation or a heartbeat, then he could be in the last set. But I saw him and Miu-chan in his lab too. Unless it turns out all of us are in here, I’ll assume they’re not, nor are the people who were scheduled for memory room time. But... you know. I’m not exactly the authority on this kind of stuff.”

“No, you’re probably the smartest among-“

Another hiss.

“...yaaaaaay we did it. Um, Angie? Tenko-chan? Um?”

“Guess Himiko-chan is our third?” Kaede said with a shrug. “And you were right.”

“I have markers; I should start keeping a tally,” Kokichi replied with a smirk.

* * *

“Okay everyone listen up,” Kaito boomed. “We’ve got two hours and there’s no telling if there’s another room after this. There probably is, so let’s try and get through these in an hour. System. We need a relay, a comms, and a solver. Only the person on comms should be talking on the intercom or it’s going to get real loud, real quick. If it’s like the last room we were in, our puzzles are in someone else’s’ room. Following?”

Kokichi was impressed. Kaito wasn’t... well he was obviously as smart as Kokichi, or possibly Shuichi or Rantaro, but his leadership skills and organization were amazing.

“So here’s the deal. Anyone really good at solving puzzles on their own with minimal questions should be solving as many as they can until they need to give directions to whomever has THEIR puzzle. In my group, that was Gonta-kun. Rantaro-kun? …Oh, he says it was Kokichi-kun. You two in separate rooms?”

“Roger,” Kokichi said. “Gonta-kun’s in Shuichi-kun’s group, not mine.”

“Third group?”

“Nyeh, Angie or Tenko-chan.”

“Well, Tenko-chan is with me, so she’s our solver, we clear? Solvers only switch if they’re stuck or have to give out instructions. Best communicator?”

“I’ll take comms in our group. Let’s call us... um... the Mages? We’re me, Kokichi-kun, and Himiko-chan,” Kaede piped in.

“Great. Team names will help a ton. Gonta-kun, your team?”

“Gonta has Gonta, Shuichi-kun, and Angie. Team Bug? Shuichi say he take comm.”

“Okay, so Team Space is me, Tenko-chan and Rantaro-kun. I’ll stay on comms.”

“Let’s use the middle rooms? Sound doesn’t travel well in here,” Kaede said. “It was soundproofed enough that I didn’t even know Kokichi-kun was right next door.”

“Good. Okay, I want everyone not on comms searching the room. Find a puzzle you can’t solve, tell your comms officer who you need on the phone. Clear?”

“ **_Clear_ ** !”

* * *

“AURGH,” Kokichi whined. “I need Gonta.”

“Well, Tenko-chan needs someone who can solve her cipher, and Shuichi-kun can’t make heads or tails of it,” Kaede yelled back. “Take a break, and take the intercom.”

“Swap with me, then,” Kokichi yelled back, as they traded places, Kokichi pressing the spike trap button for shits and giggles on the way. “Okay, what can I do you for?”

Kaito’s voice crackled through the little room. “I’m switching out with Tenko-chan. I think I get the thing with the keyboard, but keep Kaede-chan in the loop if I have to bother her?”

“Will do,” Kokichi replied, impressed with Kaito’s organizational skill even if he didn’t want to admit it.

Tenko got on the line, and Kokichi laughed. It wasn’t a cipher. It was just C++.

* * *

Thirty minutes later and Kokichi heard another hiss. Kaito had surprisingly been right again- the three rooms connected to one giant room in the center.

“Thank god,” Rantaro hissed. “We don’t need to do that relay system anymore. What’s our time?”

“Fifty minutes,” Monokuma boomed over the intercoms. He’d disappeared from Kokichi’s room after Kaede had finished solving the bug puzzle Kokichi had been stuck on.

“I think I’m up,” Kokichi noted, looking at a large padlock on a small grate. “Hey Shuichi-kun, where’s the room you started in? I need those lockpicks.”

“Can I try?” Shuichi asked.

“Be my guest, but this is a real padlock. From your description, yours was more a puzzle than an actual lock.”

Shuichi returned with the oversized ring, and looked inside the keyhole. “Yeah, there’s no way I can do this one. All you then?”

“Gah, most of this stuff is for a puzzle door, it’s huge,” Kokichi muttered, stripping out any of the tools useless for an actual lock. Left with a few slender picks and needles, Kokichi deftly clicked the lock’s pins in place as everyone watched. There wasn’t anything else in the room, anyway.

In under a minute, the lock clicked and Kokichi yanked it off the grating. “See, if I had power tools, I wouldn't have even bothered picking that thing…” Kokichi muttered, twiddling the open lock as Gonta pried the grate off its hinges.

“I see ladder,” Gonta commented. “But space tiny. Only Himiko-chan or Kokichi-kun small enough.”

“I’ll go,” Kokichi replied. “If there’s some kind of magic circle puzzle on the other side I can swap out.” Before Himiko could even put in her opinion, Kokichi wriggled inside the vent.

“You okay in there?” Kaito shouted into the grating, as Kokichi shimmied to the ladder and climbed it.

“Oh yeah, I just looooooove cat burglary through air ducts,” Kokichi replied with a metallic echo, sarcastically, though he did find the whole situation pretty cool.

Especially when he crawled out the other side of the ladder into the ductwork, probably just above where everyone else was standing, into a Kokichi-sized control panel, complete with swivel chair. He pressed his intercom button. “Can everyone down there hear me?”

“What do you want now?” Rantaro. He recognized that exasperation from earlier. Was this… the control panel for Monokuma? His suspicions were confirmed immediately. “Where’s Kokichi-kun?” Rantaro added.

So the mic had to have a voice changer.

“I’m going in there- I’ll use my magic if I have to!” Himiko cried out. “Or not.”

“What happened?” Kaito cried out.

“The ladder’s gone. And I don’t have enough mana for a teleportation spell.”

“Crap, so Kokichi-kun’s stuck on the other side, wherever that is.”

“Yeah, so you’ll be dealing with me,” Kokichi said into the intercom at the panel.

“Well,” Kaito said, rolling his eyes. “Just hurry it up with the torture already.”

“Don’t rush me,” Kokichi replied, a bit giddy, as he started messing with the controls. He flicked on all of the monitors first- every room lit up in front of him, including the one they were in, and then started mashing buttons. The nine outermost rooms began to drop new shelves and components.

“So, listen up,” Kokichi said, a bit drunk on power. “I’ve just gone and added some stuff to the starting rooms, go have a look-see.”

“You’re just going to have us get stuck in them again,” Shuichi muttered.

“No, and this time, you have your own puzzles to solve. No more buddy-buddy, this is a race to the finish.”

“What’d you do to Kokichi?” Kaito rumbled.

“That’s not something you need to worry about right now. I’m sure all of you are getting hungry, anyway.” Kokichi grinned, hamming it up a little. “ **_Do I hear a tummy rumble?_ ** It’s past one already. Even if you don’t finish in time, I can’t let you out. You’re stuck ‘till you do it yourselves.”

Himiko crawled back out of the duct, and the eight of them scattered to find a room with puzzles they could solve.

And that’s when he saw a pair of red eyes glinting at him in the darkness.

* * *

“Um… Maki-chan, right?”

“Yeah, but…” she started, trailing off. “It’s still Rei. And I don’t know what you remember but-”

“You prefer –kun,” Kokichi finished. “I remember two days- wait. Three days ago, now, right? Ugh, keeping track of time when there’s no school isn’t easy. The hell are you doing in here?”

“Ryoma-kun and I have been operating the animatronics and stuff. Mostly me, since this is a skill check for me, too. He was just bored since everyone else was busy.  **_You_ ** weren’t supposed to be up here, I had him pull up the ladder so Himiko-chan wouldn’t get up too.”

“You’re the childcare giver… makes sense you’d have to babysit us,” Kokichi replied with a nod. “So, I need to go back out and solve my stuff?”

“Nah, I stepped away because Arukawa called me. That lock was  **_supposed_ ** to be pick-proof, it wasn’t even a puzzle to solve, it was meant to, y’know, seal the grate. Arukawa says between that and your team coordination earlier, you’re good. You probably want to mess with everyone, anyway.”

“Ooooooh, can I? Pleasepleaseplease?”

Rei rolled her eyes. “I didn’t know supervillains asked permission.”

“But you’re my babysitter, riiiiiiiiight?”

“Kid,” Kokichi heard a gruff voice from the side, and Ryoma slid into the crawlspace next to them. He didn’t have to do much beyond duck a little. “You’re going to mash every button in front of you, I can see it. So just do it.”

Kokichi grinned. “Time to fuck with everyone, then. So how do I shut drawers on people?”

* * *

“Time?” Kaito called to the air as the doors disengaged.

Rei leaned over Kokichi, snapping up the intercom. “Well, bad news and good news.”

“Bad news is we’re over time, isn’t it? What’s the good news?”

“Someone cheated,” she replied, glaring at Kokichi.

“How the hell is that good news? Wouldn’t that mean we did  **_worse_ ** ?”

“Not if the person who cheated is a self-indulgent purple-haired evil overlord.”

“ **_Crap_ ** , what did Kokichi-kun do?” Kaito sounded agitated.

“Well, he was  **_trying_ ** to help you by hacking my precious system. Unfortunately, that only meant he slammed drawers shut while some of you were working on stuff in them. So, while  **_he’s_ ** in deep trouble, the rest of you would have finished on time if I didn’t have to stop every five minutes to counter him. Taking that time out, and you all passed.” Rei let go of the intercom button, smirking at Kokichi.

“Well,  **_someone’s_ ** giving me a run for my money, Little Miss Liarpants.” Kokichi snapped back, playfully, while Ryoma merely shook his head.

Rei pointed at a switch, and Kokichi followed her gaze. It turned off the voice changer. He flicked it, and used the intercom. “Awwwww, did I mess with your little game, Monokuma? I’m only in trouble if you can catch me, you stupid bear.”

The three of them laughed, as Rei pointed the way out of the hidden area to have a well-deserved lunch.

* * *

“Nice going, Kokichi-kun!” Kaito slapped him hard on the back in the great hall for a late and well-earned lunch. “wonder what our prize is? And uh, sorry, sounds like you’re not getting any, but, hey, that was pretty brave of you. Taking on Monokuma directly!”

“Dude, it was probably just some intern. I just crawled through the ducts and messed with any buttons I could find,” Kokichi replied, shrugging off Kaito’s arm and looking over his shoulder to Rei. “Now piss off, I’m starving  **_and_ ** I smell like a chimney sweep.”

* * *

“Kokichi-kun,” The word was sharp, and Kokichi, who was heading back to the bunks to take a quick shower before his make-up test, flicked his head around to meet Arukawa, tapping a heel on the hall floor.

“Hmmm?”

“I was going to give you a safe to crack, but you don’t need to stop by my office. You picked a lock that even locksmiths would need to saw apart. And I’ve already seen your personality wake up. You should have a little free time to yourself. Are you still in pain from…?”

She left it hanging.

“The minute he gave up, the pain stopped. I am a bit… sore, though.” No use lying to Arukawa. She did help make him, after all.

“Go take a bath. I have you scheduled for some memory room time and a checkup tomorrow, and I think that’s it. Ask if you need something, and please don’t push yourself. And… I’m still impressed.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Kokichi replied. “What else do I need memory room time for? My personality is intact, and I know my childhood memories are fake. I’d rather just be able to use what Daisuke knows.”

“Well, if you want to stick around, for one. And for two, you need to go under enough times we can induce it without a lengthy recovery time. And for three…”

“You need me to have the knowledge that Shuichi is Ai suppressed, don’t you? It would prevent Daisuke from resurfacing, for one. I’m not  **_lovesick_ ** like he is.” Kokichi winced, gripping his right arm with his left, a sudden spasm of pain overtaking it. He hoped Arukawa didn’t see any change in his expression.

She simply nodded.

“I think… I’ll go take that bath,” Kokichi added. “See you at dinner.”

He held his arm down all the way back to the dorms, his right hand balled in a fist that he couldn’t unclench.


	20. Spell Checker

Kokichi sat on his bunk, clutching the offending forearm. Daisuke  **_had_ ** to be trying to force his way up.

**_Stop it,_ ** Kokichi thought to himself, adding,  **_we have another memory room session tomorrow so you’ll just get suppressed more._ ** **_You_ ** **_signed up for this, your body’s mine… for now._ **

No response, just continuous shooting pain from his right elbow downwards. Well, when he’d let Daisuke out yesterday by receding back, it wasn’t as though he could  **_think_ ** at him. Kokichi could hear everything Daisuke could, and occasionally feel bursts of emotion if they were strong enough.

“Daisuke?” he whispered aloud. His right pointer and middle finger, although uncoordinated, poked his thigh. So, he was right yesterday about the pain- it was psychosomatic when the two of them attempted to control his body at once, like it was revolting from the mixed signals. Kokichi likened it to that experiment in science museums where one touched a hot and frozen coil simultaneously. The brain interprets hot as hot and cold as cold, but at the same time all the brain sends out is  **_pain_ ** .

“Someone there?” asked a groggy woman’s voice, as a head poked out of the covers of what had been Toshiro’s- and now K1-b0’s supposedly unused- bunk.

Miu.

Kokichi yelped, still clutching his forearm, which had lessened a bit, likely from Daisuke’s own surprise.

“What are you doing on our side?” Kokichi hissed. K1-b0 popped his own head out from behind Miu, eyes glowing dully through the darkness.

“I needed to keep an eye on Korekiyo-kun,” he whispered, pointing to the bunk adjacent his own where he was sleeping off the memory room effects. “and Miu-chan asked for some company.”

“Want to make it three?” Miu asked drowsily. “K1-b0 is a little space heater.”

“You’re making it weird,” Kokichi hissed.

“Awww, you’re no fun,” Miu whined, rolling herself out of K1-b0’s bunk, thankfully fully dressed, At first, Kokichi was a bit uncomfortable, before realizing Daisuke and Ai both had basically asked the same thing of K1-b0 two nights ago.

“I didn’t say you had to leave,” Kokichi hissed. “He’s… helped everybody. I’ll go to the gym or something. Kaito-kun and Shuichi-kun should be going into the memory room now, anyway. I’ll help them acclimate.”

“Nah, I had my cry. I need to get off my keister and actually do something productive. He’s all yours, you don’t have to share with me. Plus, isn’t Angie going in with them? I’ll help on the girl’s side. I know Tsumugi-chan is still dazed. She keeps mumbling something about Motherkuma.”

“I can get up, if you let me move past you,” K1-b0 said gently, patting his bed. “You rest.”

“Only if I can hear you sigh,” Miu replied, almost greedily turning her head to look down at him.

K1-b0 sighed, then smiled. “See? All good.”

“And it can even help as a little heatsink, too, since it’s basically forcing air past your CPU,” she added, giggling. “Next time around, I want to make you ticklish.”

“I already have plenty of tactile sensors so that’s a software problem, not a hardware one,” K1-b0 chided, as Miu stretched. “And knowing our little overlord, I won’t let him do anything unsupervised,” he added with a gentle smirk.

“Ugh, it’s like nobody trusts me,” Kokichi quietly, sarcastically groaned, looking down at his right arm.

* * *

“Why did you drag me in here?”

“Because there are no cameras in the changing stalls,” K1-b0 replied, pushing Kokichi to sit on the bench in the furthest one, handicapped accessible with more than enough room for both of them to sit. “I can feel the radiation from radio noise everywhere but in here, so it's a safe assumption they don’t have recording here- or in the showers, for that matter. And dragging you into the toilets or showers would be far more suspicious than the changing room, since I use this as well. Now let me see your right arm.”

“It’s Daisuke’s right now,” Kokichi replied. “I have no control below the elbow, and it feels like he’s trying to take back the whole thing.”

“Does it… hurt?”

“Like hell. I think it will stop if one of us lets go, but he can’t talk to me. I’m pretty sure he can hear.”

“And you aren’t going to concede his arm back to him.”

“No, because it’s mine. And I give him an arm, soon it's the other arm, then…” Kokichi looked down and away.

“No matter what I suggest,  **_someone_ ** is going to be unhappy,” K1-b0 replied.

“He signed up for this. If I survive the killing game, he gets his body back. So, please, can… for just…”

Kokichi’s breath hitched. “I only get a month to live, Daisuke.  **_Let me have that_ ** .”

His hand slowly began to go slack.

* * *

“Any better, Kokichi-kun?” K1-b0 asked, after he’d massaged his arm.

“Well, pain’s gone, but it’s totally numb. I… can’t move it at all. I think I faded out. At least partially.”

“Well, Arukawa-sensei did say that’s normal.”

“I have another memory session tomorrow, so I should come back a bit stronger. Uhm, thanks, K… K1-b0.”

Both boys snapped to the sound of a thud, followed by a grunt and a swear. “Sounds like Kaito-kun and Shuichi-kun are done. Go. I’ll… have a talk in here with Daisuke. Don’t let anyone in? I’d like people to think I’m only on a certain level of crazy.”

K1-b0 nodded, and left the stall, leaving Kokichi alone if he didn’t already have company.

“Okay. Daisuke? Fine. You win, for now. Both of us are right handed. I’m going to need your help.” Kokichi winced, as the pain rushed back from strained muscle. “Ow, dammit. I- we- just had that massaged out, geez. Take it slow and I’ll see if I can’t back off.”

Kokichi breathed deeply, trying to relax his whole right arm. “I’m giving up everything to the shoulder, but that’s  **_it_ ** . Fair?”

The fingers in his right hand began to flex. Uncoordinated, but the pain began to subside to a dull throb as Kokichi relaxed his arm. “Gah, I wish both of us knew sign language or something. Thumbs up and thumbs down for now?”

It took some work, but his hand formed into a clumsy thumb’s up.

“You see what I do and hear what I do, right?”

His hand stayed upright.

“Can you hear my thoughts?”

His hand turned the other way.

“No? I can’t hear yours either. Though I felt… agitated when I talked about you being lovesick for Ai… and oof, again. So if you’re really emotional, I can feel it. That… wasn’t really a question. Can you force yourself to… I don’t know, be very upset?”

A few moments later, and Kokichi felt a wave of sadness. “Shit, Daisuke, okay. I felt that. I don’t know what you were thinking about that made the waterworks, but… I guess between that and yes and no, it’s a start. How much control do you have? Can you unbutton mmmy-our shirt? I guess if you’ve got enough dexterity for that you could hold chopsticks or a stylus. I’ll hold the collar still.”

Kokichi held his shirt’s collar down with his left hand, and waited patiently for Daisuke. It was like a toddler, weak, jerky, and uncoordinated, but Daisuke managed to loosen the top button and re-button it again.

“Not really what you signed up for, is it?” Kokichi asked. “Let me go see if I can steal back your tablet from K1-b0.”

Shuichi was sleeping peacefully on his bunk, hair splayed out in a loose mess. K1-b0 was trying to force a staggering drunk-like Kaito into his.

“Can I have my e-reader back?” Kokichi asked, watching as K1-b0 subdued the flailing fake astronaut and hauled him up into his bunk.

“In my shelf,” K1-b0 replied distracted. “Top drawer.”

Kokichi nodded, pulling the drawer open with his left hand. Daisuke pulled the reader out, almost dropping it, and K1-b0 caught the exchange from the corner of his eye.

“I’ll… I’m going back somewhere quiet to read, Kiiboy. If you need a straightjacket for Mister Luminary of the Stars, I know where I can find one.”

“At this rate, I might,” K1-b0 added with a groan, taken aback by the sound instead of the whir of a servo. “Hey! That works too!” he commented excitedly.

* * *

“Okay, Daisuke, fire at will,” Kokichi said sitting down in the changing room, holding the tablet with his left hand. His right hand moved again, and Kokichi attempted to relax. There was no universe in which the feeling of watching his hand just… move… wasn’t entirely creepy.

**_FNNY_ **

“You okay?”

**_WELL, IT’S LIKE FLOATING IN A DREAM. EBERYTHING IS HAPPENING FAR OFF, BUT I CSN SEE IT ALL_ **

“Nice typing.”

**_FUCK OFF KKIVHI THS IS JARD_ **

“Jard.”

**_HARD STOP BEINF AN ASSHOWE_ **

“And yet you’re still full of sass. How  **_rude_ ** .”

**_I WILLSMACK YOU_ **

“And I deserve it.”

Daisuke’s hand stilled.

**_ILL BE GONE AGAIN TOMORROW_ **

“Are… you aware? Even when I’m totally in control?”

**_TODAY I WAS DUNO IF THATLL SYAY TRU THO_ **

Kokichi gulped.

**_YOURE WPRRIED I FELT THAT TOO_ **

“That has to be so weird…” Kokichi said, trailing off. He’d felt it, briefly, yesterday, in the infirmary when he’d receded back to let Daisuke talk to K1-b0.

**_CAN YOU LET ME OUT LIKE YESTERDAY AND THEN TAKE IT BAC LATR_ **

“I can recede, but it was K1-b0 scaring you stiff.  **_You_ ** fell back, I don’t think I can come forward. Look at what you did to- to our arm. I’ve completely lost control of it.”

**_YEA_ **

Kokichi watched the tablet. Daisuke twitched his fingers, but hesitated to type.

**_HY KOKICHI_ **

“Yes?”

**_IF THIS IS WHAT ITS LIKE FOR US JUST KNOW IF YOU TRY SOMETHING STUPID ILL MAKE US BTH SUFFR_ **

“God, it hurts when we both try and take control.”

**_I CAN PARALYZE US_ **

“I know.”

**_KOKICI JUST DO ME A FAVOR N WATCH OVER AI AND IF SOMEONE COMES AT YOU RUN LIKE HELL_ **

“I’ll…”

**_I CAN FEL MY THROAT CLOSE UP UOU IDIOT_ **

“You asked for this.”

**_I DID DONT WASTE IT_ **

“We should probably check on Shuichi-kun. If you want to talk to me, poke me in the leg three times.”

**_FAIR_ **

“Getting used to it? Think you can feed me tonight?” Kokichi asked with a smirk.

**_PISS ME OFF AND ILL POUR HOT SOUP ON US_ **

“Hearing you loud and clear,  **_nerd_ ** .”

* * *

Kokichi felt lucky that he’d been written as incredibly adaptable. Even so, having to work with Daisuke to put food in his (their, he corrected,  **_their_ ** ) mouth was an unsettling experience. Especially since he needed it to look natural. But it seemed like Daisuke adapted quickly too- after all, it was his own arm, anyway.

He looked over at Miu, who had finally allowed herself to sit with him and Rei at dinner. Kaito and Shuichi were still in bed, sleeping off the light. Kokichi was pretty sure they’d get room service later if they wanted something.

The evening wore on quickly- everyone stayed in the common room until they were tired, Tsumugi, Ryoma, and K1-b0 playing a racing game, Shuichi reading quietly while eating a plate of beef buns, still a bit dazed. Korekiyo sat in a corner, observing and playing the shakuhachi, while Rantaro pulled in a few bean bags and was doing Himiko’s, Kaede’s, and Angie’s nails. Miu was sketching Gonta in an almost clinical style, whining every time he tried to fidget.

Rei sat next to Kokichi. “I had… fun this afternoon,” she said quietly.

“It was nice playing the Wizard of Oz for a bit,” he replied, simply.

“It’s weird… watching everyone change. Especially you…. Um, I said nothing.”

“I know what’s going on,” Kokichi replied, rolling his eyes.

Rei blushed. “Oh… good, I thought I slipped something loose. Though I overheard from K1-b0 that most people just… reconcile when memories don’t make sense. Like the first night with Kaito and Shuichi. I heard something about Kaito thinking Shuichi was hot?”

Kokichi just shook his head, a lock of gelled, sooty hair flicking around on his forehead. “We’re going to be hitting four full days, have you gotten anything yet?”

“A… lot. But I still know I’m me. Actually, I know who’s the least far along. I’ve been stalking some of the staff.”

“Oh?” Kokichi perked up. “Who?”

“I’ll let you guess.”

“Well, it’s not any of the guys, except maybe Ryoma. It’s  **_certainly_ ** not me. Or maybe Korekiyo? He did talk about how creepy his sheet was and I haven’t seen him ‘get possessed’ yet. Wait. I think I know.”

“Who?” Rei said, tilting her head.

“Ace,” Kokichi said, pointing at the blonde girl sketching. “Her personality actually hasn’t changed at all, but yours hasn’t either.”

“Ding.”

“She’s only gotten her skill, but none of Miu’s memory or personality yet, has she?”

“Not according to what I’ve heard. If she wasn't modding K1-b0 they probably would have considered disqualifying her. Also, Daisuke-kun? You scare me. You’re getting… insanely brilliant.”

“Well, I’m more Kokichi than Daisuke now,” Kokichi replied, looking down at his right hand. “Daisuke’s too damn  **_nice_ ** .”

Kokichi didn’t stay in the common room much longer, opting to finally shower and get some much needed rest.

* * *

Kokichi did his morning routine, ate breakfast with everyone, and went to the memory room with Miu and Ryoma as his schedule instructed. Another request for a heated blanket, as he got comfortable.

Kokichi went under without any fuss, then again, he wanted to. And for the first time, when he was lifted out of his chair, he awoke, groggy and heavy. His attendant hefted him up in a carry and deposited him in a wheelchair, along with Miu and Ryoma in their own chair, heads lolled in slumber.

Kokichi flexed his right hand. His arm was his again.

But not for long.

Kokichi was deposited in his bunk, given water and dry crackers. As soon as the man finished with both him and Ryoma, Kokichi scooted and grabbed his e-reader.

**_DAISUKE I’M GOING TO DO SOMETHING VERY STUPID. I DON’T WANT TO JUST LOSE MY HAND IF YOU’RE SUPPRESSED. GO ON, THE MINUTE IT SEIZES UP I’LL BACK OFF._ **

Kokichi winced, breathed sharply, and let his hand go limp.

He watched in morbid curiosity as the hand began flexing on its own.

**_THANKYOU_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two in a day! Well, they were both shorter, so...


	21. Precautionary Measures

**_YOU THINK THISLL LAST?_ ** Daisuke asked.

**_BEATS ME_ ** Kokichi replied, typing left handed.  **_BUT IF YOU'RE AWAKE AND AWARE ANYWAY IT’S THE LEAST I CAN DO. YOU'RE ONE OF MY UNDERLINGS NOW DAISUKE AND DON’T YOU DARE FORGET IT_ **

**_YES BOSS_ **

Kokichi could feel the sarcasm on Daisuke’s words. Good.

* * *

Another week blinked by. Kokichi didn’t change much more- he got more and more memories of his “childhood” sure, but with Daisuke fully aware at the back of his mind, he could pretty easily detach himself from them. By this point, nobody fell asleep during memory light sessions, merely sitting for a few minutes, almost bored.

It was weird being awake and aware- he could feel his own memories shifting upstairs  **_while it was happening_ ** . He’d lose contact with Daisuke, and his hand would be his again, and he’d remember a birthday he never actually had, or the first time he hacked DoCoMo. There were two copies of Ai, and Mamoru, and Momo, his own slowly painting over Daisuke’s- at least, temporarily.

Even if he forgot he was in a loaner, Daisuke was never truly gone, and pulsed shooting pain through his right fingers if Kokichi didn’t give up the hand quickly enough after a session, giving the added bonus of reminding Kokichi he was just a character.

He was real in the sense that he existed, sure, but not so much in the sense that his memories were.

Kokichi didn’t mind that. It kept him grounded. He’d rather the painful truth than the mountain of white lies everyone else was going through. It was  **_his_ ** job to lie, not to be lied to.

* * *

“It looks like all of you are ready,” Arukawa said one evening over dinner, a night fifteen days after they’d all arrived. “Tomorrow… we’re going to take you all to the set, and start with promotional materials for the show. Photographs, pre-show interviews, and a mock trial. This will be your last night in this facility, and in about three days, we’re going to give you all your last set of suppressions before the start of filming. That includes suppressing the time you’ve had since coming here. If you have any last questions for me- for anyone on Team Danganronpa- or if you’d like to talk to a therapist, our offices will be open all evening.

“I’d strongly suggest getting some sleep, the next three days will likely be quite taxing, but it’s been tradition that we set up futons in the great hall, so everyone can be together. You’ll have private rooms on the set, and starting tomorrow, that’s where you’ll stay.

“If you don’t come to me tonight, I wish all of you the best of luck. We’ll be keeping our eyes and ears open.”

There was a quiet murmur among the sixteen of them.

“Professor… what about me?”

K1-b0 cocked his head side to side, curiously.

“Just before the game starts, your drive will be synched to the mainframe, and your memories of the past two weeks will be partitioned off. We will also be taking out… a few other things. Should you survive the game, your two sets of memories will be merged.”

Arukawa looked sideways at Gonta while saying this, and K1-b0 understood. Merely removing the last two weeks would still mean there would be someone K1-b0 would know, and likely confuse him further.

“I… I understand, Professor. I’ll stay with everyone… until the end.” K1-b0’s voice faltered a little.

Miu got up from her bowl of udon, plopped herself behind K1-b0, and pulled him in tight, her chest practically motorboating the robot from behind, drooling slightly from the closeness and warmth. K1-b0 blushed a little, accepting Miu’s overtly sexual, if genuine concern, reaching behind him to squeeze her shoulder and pull her closer.

Miu had been the last of them to actually become their personae. Kokichi and Daisuke both guessed it was because… well, how much a needy slut she’d become, and they both despised using the word.  **_Ace… reduced to fanservice_ ** . Kokichi looked away as Miu pulled both herself and K1-b0 backwards, forcing his head to rest on her chest.

Three quick taps to Kokichi’s thigh. Daisuke and Kokichi taught themselves Morse, it was faster than typing on a tablet and far more discreet. Three taps to the thigh to let the other that they wanted to talk, and then tap away. To the outside, it just looked like a nervous tic. And Kokichi could ‘talk back’ to Daisuke without actually talking aloud.

‘ **_Ko_ ** ,’ Daisuke started. ‘ **_If Shu is okay with it can we spend the evening with him?_ ** ’

‘ **_Sure. Though look at him and Kay,_ ** ’ Kokichi tapped out, with his own left hand on his left thigh looking at Shuichi and Kaede, leaning into each other. ‘ **_I don’t want to turn that bicycle into a cart._ ** ’

Daisuke balled his hand into a fist, frustrated. Watching his friend become a boy hadn’t been what bothered Daisuke, it was watching the body that housed his friend, deep in the recesses of that mind, pick someone else. But the frustration didn't last long.

‘ **_I’d rather Shu be happy than me butting in._ ** ’ Daisuke finally replied.

‘ **_Miu and Kii then?_ ** ’

‘ **_We are the designated threesome. Ha._ ** ’

‘ **_You’re a shitty liar, you know that, right?_ ** ’

‘ **_Takes one to know one._ ** ’

* * *

“Kokichi-kun?”

Kokichi stirred. He’d fallen asleep on K1-b0, snuggling a warm, metal arm. Someone must have come by and draped a cover on him at some point. It certainly hadn’t been K1-b0 himself, who looked a bit distressed with both Miu and Kokichi laying haphazardly on him, pulling his limbs in awkward directions as he kept himself still.

“Shu-shuichi-kun? It’s like…”

“3AM,” he supplied. “I… can we go for a walk?”

Daisuke didn’t even bother with the alert taps. ‘ **_Yes please._ ** ’

Kokichi rubbed his left eye, and raised his right arm so Daisuke could rub the crust from his right. He sloughed off K1-b0’s arm to a sigh of relief from the bot, who could finally shift Miu off him and properly onto a futon without disturbing Kokichi, too.

“You want to come too?” Shuichi asked K1-b0.

K1-b0 looked at Kokichi, and Daisuke made a small cutting motion with his hand.

“I’d prefer to keep watch over Miu-chan. She tends to have nightmares.”

Shuichi nodded.

‘ **_Did Kii just… cover for us?_ ** ’ Daisuke asked.

K1-bo lightly rapped the tatami, getting Kokichi’s attention. ‘ **_You do realize it’s easy to learn Morse code, don’t you?_ ** ’ he tapped out, with a small smirk, staring straight into Kokichi’s and Daisuke’s collective souls.

Shuichi looked between the two (three) of them for a moment. “Am… am I missing something?”

* * *

‘ **_How long has he known?!_ ** ’ Daisuke rapped, forcefully, almost leaving a bruise.

‘ **_Would you shut up? There’s a limit to how much I can multitask and all you need to worry about is one hand._ ** ’

Kokichi followed Shuichi to the gym, trying to concentrate on the taller boy for his host’s sake. K1-b0 had known Daisuke took his arm back two weeks ago, and always offered to massage it out whenever it twitched or Kokichi clutched it after a memory room session. K1-b0 was a young AI, certainly, but not stupid. It wasn’t much a stretch for him to consider if Daisuke had control of a hand that he’d figure out a way to communicate with it.

Shuichi flicked on the light in the gym, flopping down. His shirt jiggled just… well, Kokichi could tell he wasn’t currently wearing a binder under the too-large sweatshirt, but only because he knew to look.

“Kokichi-kun?” Shuichi asked meekly.

“Yeah?” Kokichi slumped down next to him, to Shuichi’s left so Daisuke could be closer.

“We made a promise… to Momo-chan. To your whole team.”

“We’d come home.”

“To my uncle… and your… really weird parents. Look, Kokichi-kun, I know they’re really thieves. Until I can actually catch them in the act, I feign ignorance.”

Kokichi laughed. Even now, they were intertwined.

“I… spoke with Arukawa after you fell asleep. I just… I wanted to talk to someone. She told me you and I would have a few more quick bursts. There’s something that they’re going to suppress.”

“Why didn’t they make us forget each other sooner?” Kokichi asked, connecting the dots in his head.

“Probably because it would mess up so many of my memories. And yours. I… I wanted to talk through them all. I know something’s been changed in me. Maybe… since you knew me before and I knew you before… if we figured out the inconsistencies I might know a bit more about who I was before coming here? Before I forget you. Me.  **_Us_ ** .”

“Saihara Shuichi. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Ever the detective,” Kokichi replied, with a bit of a jeer.

“You… won’t help?”

“I didn’t say that. But if you’re asking to pick my brain… my memories…”

Well, Kokichi was a liar. But this time, as long as he only recited to Shuichi  **_his_ ** memories… he technically didn't have to be.

* * *

Kokichi leaned into Shuichi. “And that’s when the giraffe leaned over, and almost ate your hat.”

Both boys laughed. “And that’s when you picked the enclosure door, wasn’t it?” Shuichi asked, drowsily. “It’s kinda hazy, but I remember you sneaking in there and stealing it back. You had to be what… seven?”

“I’m older than you, Shuichi-kun, don’t you dare forget that,” Kokichi chided, snuggling comfortably in the crook of his elbow, smelling the musk in Shuichi’s sweatshirt, Daisuke’s hand on Shuichi’s knee.

“I know… but you’ve always been so  **_tiny_ ** . And then you had to sneak back out of the pen before the zookeeper caught you.”

“Mom ‘accidentally’ knocked into a guy selling balloons. She’s always been good at distractions…”

Shuichi sighed. “Thanks, Kokichi-kun. I… I needed that.”

“It’s almost five AM, we… we should probably go back to sleep. You going to find Kaede-chan?” Kokichi cracked his neck, sitting upright.

“I… I’m pretty sure they’re making me feel for her, with the fake memories and stuff,” Shuichi said, tracing the floor with his finger. “She’s… way more pushy than anyone I’d consider… d… d… dating.”

“So, who  **_is_ ** your type then? Momo-chan?” Kokichi asked, stretching.

“I… wish I knew,” Shuichi replied, before changing the topic. “Can I stay with you three for the rest of the night? I know you, K1-b0, and Miu-chan are all attached at the hip. And uh… I’d probably just wake Kaede-chan with my snoring anyway.”

“Well,  **_I_ ** can at least sleep through someone sawing through a safe door, and K1-b0 just kind of lays there awake.”

“Thanks, Kokichi-kun.”

* * *

“Up, up, up!” Arukawa clapped her hands as she walked around the great hall, poking everyone awake.

“Bwah?” Kokichi and Daisuke rubbed their eyes. Shit. Kokichi never took out his contacts last night. Shuichi blearily sat upright, looking like a zombie. He hadn’t either.

“Some of you need to get a quick touch-up on your hair,” Arukawa said. “Miu-chan? Kokichi-kun? Shuichi-kun? Please go follow Taka-chan. Ryoma-kun, Rantaro-kun…”

Kokichi tuned out everything Arukawa was saying, and helped pull Miu to her feet.

“I guess I’ll see you all after you’re done?” K1-b0 asked pleasantly.

Kokichi just grunted.

* * *

Taka read notes left behind by the woman who’d done Daisuke’s hair just over two weeks ago (Daisuke furiously tapping that he’d never actually gotten her name), mixing the dye and touching up Kokichi’s roots, before doing the same for Shuichi and Miu. Shuichi’s color was dark enough that only someone looking for it would probably notice, and under his hat, it likely didn’t even matter, but Miu’s dye was extremely obvious. Still, they were going to be broadcast on television, and consistency for the cameras and all that.

Shuichi was finished first, ends trimmed and passed off to someone else, then Kokichi. He didn’t squirm like Daisuke had, smiling quietly from the attention and relaxing in the chair. It would be the last time (in a while, until the game was over, he’d mentally added) he’d get this much attention, so he took what he could. Hair done, as he didn’t get another cut, and he too was ordered into the next room over.

“I can do that myself,” he commented as he was asked to sit for makeup.

“Yes, but you’re getting promotional photos today, so we need to do a bit more than you’ll do,” the woman replied, Daisuke reminding Kokichi to make sure to ask what her name was before she’d finished doing his face for the camera.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw pinstripe.

“Shuichi-kun?” Kokichi asked. The taller boy sheepishly walked into view. “That’s your killing game costume, or is that what you were ‘kidnapped’ in?”

“Killing game,” Shuichi replied, pulling at the collar of his gakuran. It was the same high-collar style as Kokichi’s ‘normal’ costume, but pinstriped, ‘his’ school logo on the breast pocket. Shuichi tugged at his cap, almost pulling it over his face completely.

“Very… modern Holmes, I guess. I was kind of expecting deerstalker and one of those short wool cape things,” Kokichi finally articulated, as the makeup artist chided him for not sitting still. “If I’m going to be honest, it’s surprisingly… normal. Minus the pattern.”

‘ **_And they let you keep your brother’s hat, to boot_ ** ,’ Daisuke tapped in his own remark.

“I’m guessing that means yours isn’t,” Shuichi replied, pacing a little. “I need to eat something. I’ll see you in the great hall?”

“If you’re drinking anything, use a straw,” the stylist chided, over her shoulder.

* * *

‘ **_Looking good, oh mighty Supreme Leader,_ ** ’ Daisuke tapped lightly. Even without a voice, Kokichi could feel the sarcasm.

‘ **_Well, fuck you too._ ** ’

‘ **_Uh, I was serious. Turn sideways. Look at us. We look like we’re going to finally curb-stop Batman and pull off his mask on national TV._ ** ’

Kokichi obliged his host, turning in the mirror to give them both a chance to get a good look. Alone, the white straight jacket with its mismatched buttons looked a little stupid, but with the bandana, and especially the shredded floor length cape and military cap, he looked like a supervillain who had seen years of battle (and maybe a few mental institutions)- if the combination of Daisuke’s stature and natural bone structure exacerbated by the makeup didn’t make him look like a middle schooler.

‘ **_Maybe I’d be more intimidating if you weren’t so short and baby-faced_ ** .’

‘ **_Uh, pretty sure that makes us_ ** **_more_ ** **_intimidating, Ko. We look like a ten-year-old. Think about all those horror movies where the kid’s a vengeful ghost_ ** .’

‘ **_Wrong genre savvy_ ** ,’ Kokichi replied, as he laughed a little out loud.

‘ **_Laughing, or whinnying like a horse?_ ** ’

‘ **_My last name_ ** **_does_ ** **_mean Horse King, probably Toki having a joke at my expense._ ** ’

‘ **_I guess every good supervillain needs a catchphrase, but is it too late to ask if we can re-roll that perk?_ ** ’

‘ **_Goddamnit, you_ ** **_nerd_ ** **_._ ** ’

‘ **_And you love me for it_ ** .’

Kokichi usually insisted on having the last retort, but for Daisuke himself? He’d let him have the last laugh at his expense.

* * *

Kokichi sauntered back to the great hall, cape billowing behind him. He felt awesome. Like Darth Vader- though he didn’t want to admit it to Daisuke.

With both hands- he flung open the doors to the great hall- to Shuichi, K1-b0, and Toshiro squatting over some black fabric and hunks of metal.

“Maybe we should wait for Miu-chan?” K1-b0 asked, all three of them completely ignoring Kokichi’s grand entrance. Kokichi let himself pout for a moment, then hurried over to where the boys were sitting.

“Nobody else is done yet?” he asked, prompting the three of them to look up.

Shuichi burst out laughing.

“Oh my god, they gave you a cape,” he smirked. “But I wasn’t expecting the rest to just be your DICE uniform.” Right. If Shuichi remembered Kokichi the way it seemed, he would have already seen Kokichi looking like this.

“It’s a classic!” Kokichi whined back, a little upset that the reaction wasn’t more extreme. Kokichi bunched the cape’s fabric behind him and out of the way, looking at the mess of things in front of them.

“Apparently, Miu-chan worked with Tsumugi-chan to redesign my costume at the last minute, and they want me to try this one on instead.” K1-b0 supplied. “It was originally something of a steampunk aesthetic,” he added, pointing to some neatly folded clothing to one side, alongside a pair of shined black shoes with brown canvas gaiters. “This… looks more hard sci-fi.”

“Honestly, with your plastic face, steampunk might have clashed, isn’t that the wrong time period?” Kokichi asked, looking at the folded vest, with little embroidered gear patterns on it. “So, what’s the problem? Don’t know how to put it on? Looks like some kind of power suit to me. I’m getting some Go-Lion vibes off it.”

A slam, and the great hall door almost rocked off its hinge. “Heeeeeeeeello boooooys!” Miu stomped, in knee high boots and a pale pink sailor-style uniform. Or it would have been, if it didn’t look quite like steampunk bondage.

Maybe that’s why she’d made an alteration, as Kokichi noted a bit of pink fabric poking out from K1-b0’s pile. A tie, in the same color as Miu’s uniform. They’d be too obvious a couple.

“What's the fucking holdup? My gorgeous body?”

“Let’s… go with that,” Shuichi pleaded, hoping to steer the conversation away from Miu’s extremely exposed cleavage.

“Ohhhh, K1-b0 didn’t get the instructions I’d left,” Miu said, annoyed, looking at the pile. “Okay, then, strip.”

If it were anyone but K1-b0, Kokichi would have probably fled. But the robot obediently took off his tee and drawstring pants, and awaited Miu’s instructions.

“Ahhh, my adorable little exhibitionist,” Miu said, eyes glinting, before snapping to business. “Okay, just put on the black part. It snaps up the front. And now, you probably want to put on the thigh guards, then the boots, and then just start snapping in the plates going from the waist up.”

“Okay, the piece de resistance!” she added, when only a giant metal collar-like thing remained. “This plugs into your charging ports in the back, so your emergency off switch isn’t so exposed. It also doubles as a quick diagnostic scanner.”

“A… diagnostic scanner?”

“Like… um… if someone messed with you… and I wasn’t there anymore… it’ll give some basic info on what’s wrong. For someone who isn’t a genius like me. It’s blast proof, shockproof, and waterproof too! And password protected, with a password that changes every fifteen minutes. You personally have to command it to disengage out of your ports, so someone can’t just yank it out, either, but you can take it off to charge.”

“It…. It would provide an autopsy report if you died before I did…” K1-b0 sounded out carefully. K1-b0 frowned, trying to choose his words. “Thank you. This… might save someone’s life. It would be difficult to tamper with and obfuscate evidence should… should I end up being a victim.”

“Am I a fucking genius or what?”

K1-b0 rolled the collar in his hand, before pulling Miu into a warm hug. “The best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to take a moment and note that nearly all of Kokichi's single-hand sprites use only his left hand, with his right arm hanging down, despite Kokichi being right handed.
> 
> Food for thought.


	22. Obligatory Fanservice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back from japan and check out this haul o stuff.
> 
> https://imgur.com/a/7iaEF
> 
> as usual plz tip your beta writer.

“Hey, Kaede-chan’s is cute and subtle,” K1-b0 remarked, as the three participants eating breakfast (plus Toshiro) nodded along, noting everyone in full costume as they came back from their stylist, touch up, or both.

“Music staff on the skirt, she seemed the type who’d just wear that normally,” Shuichi remarked.

“Yeah, well, look at Master Gimp over there. Hey, Miu-chan, new boyfriend?” Kokichi barked out, almost coughing on his own bowl of okayu.

“God no, I have standards,” Miu laughed. “He’s got more eyeliner on than I do.”

‘ **_Could you at least try and give Jii some slack? Even if Kore is the one using his body right now?_ ** ’

Kokichi rolled his eyes. Daisuke had to be a wet blanket, though Kokichi understood why Daisuke found it to be such a sticking point.

‘ **_Fine. But can I make fun of some of these costumes?_ ** ’

‘ **_I hate not being able to articulate sarcasm. There has to be some kind of shorthand I can use. You can sigh and groan, but me... not so much._ ** ‘

‘ **_You were just being a pain in my ass._ ** ’

‘ **_Thigh. And hey, uh... you wanna explain to me what the hell is up with Kai’s shoes?_ ** ’

“Um... is it just me or did Kaito’s costume designer do a great job, but called it quits at the pants and left the company?” Shuichi whispered, laughing a little. “Those  **_shoes_ ** .”

“I mean, there’s plenty of sensible slip-ons if they didn’t want to give something with laces,” Kokichi hissed back, feeling a bit like a catty girl in the lunchroom, looking down at both his and Shuichi’s lace-free footwear then back up at Kaito’s shoes. ‘I can’t tell if those are just slippers or what.”

“Well, at least most of these are interesting,” K1-b0 piped, looking at his own attire before scanning the room again. “Tsumugi-chan’s just looks... normal. Did they give her her kidnapped-in outfit by mistake?”

“Well at least she doesn’t have a chain-gang ankle cuff, wonder if that’s actually metal. That’s gotta be heavy,” Toshiro added, looking at Ryoma’s prison-like outfit. “Neat leather jacket though.”

“What was your costume?” Kokichi asked.

Shuichi looked at him in confusion.

“Oh, right. Um... him and Gonta-kun drew straws to figure out who was going to be our sixteenth when someone got disqualified.” Kokichi quickly corrected. Toshiro glared, looking uncomfortably past Kokichi’s purple eyes and straight to the brown ones hidden behind his contacts.

“You’re an ultimate too, Toshitty?” Miu, ever witty with her scatological humor.

“R-roboticist,” he supplied, looking away, attempting poorly to lie. It seemed to be accepted by Miu and Shuichi both. “I mean, I’m not the best or anything, but I’m good enough for someone my age. They wanted Gonta-kun, though.”

“Speak of the Devil,” Kokichi said, quickly steering the situation away from his flub and towards the giant in glasses and a brown suit. “Almost looks boring, but what’s with the purse?”

“It’s a bug catching container,” Shuichi corrected.

“Yes, thank you, Captain Obvious.” Kokichi groaned and reached up, smacking Shuichi’s hat right off his head.

* * *

“Group photo, everyone?” Arukawa asked. “Make sure everyone’s visible. One with just the contestants, and then another with the whole staff, please!”

A patter of feet as everyone in the great hall converged on a spot. Kokichi squatted at a far end, Himiko the other, as they held the banner for their season.

This was real.

This was weird.

This was... frightening.

* * *

Kokichi followed the mass down a giant elevator, into a sub basement, feeling his ears plug under the pressure. At the bottom, a giant digger machine, red, with EXISAL painted on it in English lettering blinked to life and moved its torso in an exaggerated arc as they passed.

“One of the robotic monitors,” Arukawa explained. “They’ll also look as though they’re doing construction to the set as time passes, though in reality we have everything built already. Parts of the set will be added after certain points, sometimes by opening up new sections in the school, or pulling set pieces up from underground. We have everything raised up for today, but we’ll lower some parts back down tomorrow.”

‘ **_They add new parts to the set... after a successful trial after a murder_ ** ...’ Daisuke supplied.

Kokichi could probably have rifled through Daisuke’s memories on his own if he gave enough effort, but it helped that Daisuke could just tell him. Thinking about memories would usually only pull up his own fake ones, and it took too much concentration to sort out the reality from the lies. Daisuke was the bookish nerd of the two of them, and Kokichi was actually kind of glad to let him do the heavy lifting on that front; it gave his host something to do.

‘ **_Anything else for me, Dai_ ** ?’

‘ **_Could you pop our ears_ ** ?’

Kokichi snickered, lifting up his right arm to his face. ‘ **_Do it yourself_ ** .’

Daisuke pinched his nose shut and Kokichi held his breath and blew. Air rushed through their ears and Daisuke let go. Kokichi let his arm fall back to his side and kept pace with everyone else, none the wiser.

‘ **_Go team_ ** ?’ Daisuke asked when he could stretch his pointer finger to his thigh.

‘ **_I think we’ve got our coordination down at least, you think we could play piano_ ** ?’

Daisuke just flicked Kokichi in the thigh.

‘ **_Who pissed in your porridge this time_ ** ?’ Kokichi asked, hiding a smirk down his kerchief.

‘ **_He’s grinning like an idiot right now, y’know_ ** ?’

The walk was eerily quiet, as the group passed giant hydraulic lifts and support beams under the set.

“Alright, everyone, three at a time up the elevator. This one’s small. There’s a few like this scattered around the campus. Please wait at the exit until everyone is upstairs.”

K1-b0 pulled gently on Kokichi’s arm, and Shuichi with the other to be a group of three to await their new home.

‘ **_Hey, Dai? Thanks, man_ ** ,’ Kokichi tapped to his rib, since his left arm was bent under K1-b0’s hold.

‘ **_Going soft on me now_ ** ?’ Daisuke replied, his side free.

‘ **_Can both of you understand me_ ** ?’ A set of taps to Kokichi’s shoulder.

Kokichi gulped, K1-b0 really had found them out. He grabbed K1-b0’s wrist to reply. ‘ **_You caught us. Morse handed_ ** .’

‘ **_You two are... crazy. Crazy like foxes. Can Daisuke hear me too, or does he only have feeling on the right side of his body_ ** ?’

‘ **_How would I talk back if that were the case? We both have full sensory experience. Just, he’s got control of the right hand and I have everything else_ ** .’

The three of them were called into the elevator up, Kokichi too embarrassed to look K1-b0 in the eyes. ‘ **_Do you think they’re onto us_ ** ?’

‘ **_Beats me_ ** ,’ K1-b0 responded. ‘ **_You just talked me through when you had paralysis and I extrapolated what I knew. Does it still hurt_ ** ?’

Kokichi just shook his head.

“Ugh. My ears just popped again. K1-b0, be glad you don’t need to deal with that.”

“Yeah,” Shuichi said, holding his nose and trying to pop his ears by force. “Eet feelbs like needlz,” he added, nose pinched.

“I suppose not being able to sense pain is welcome, but it also means that if something isn’t functioning properly I may not notice.”

The elevator rumbled to a stop, and dinged to let them out. A panel slid aside and the three walked out into a little school store, a garish capsule machine sitting where the checkout counter would be.

Kaito leaned on a wall, chewing bubblegum, smacking a loud POP as he blew a massive pink bubble. Kaede and Tenko were also chewing furiously.

“Need any?” he asked, pointing to a shelf.

“We can just...?”

“Well, we don’t have money, and there isn’t exactly anywhere to pay, unless you want something out of that capsule machine. If they complain we take a couple packs of gum to fight vertigo then, well, doesn’t really sound like Arukawa’s style,” Kaede added, between blowing a small yellow bubble.

“Touché,” Kokichi replied, reaching up to the shelf, holding out his arm so Daisuke could pick the flavor. Once he felt his hand grip a pack, he pulled back.

Grape.  **_Eugh_ ** . Whatever. He’d humor Daisuke.

Shuichi pulled down one for himself, and they ripped their packs open, chewing for a bit of relief.

K1-b0 rapped his chest plate, and Kokichi looked up. ‘ **_You’d never guess you were two separate people, I am genuinely impressed_ ** .’

* * *

Kokichi spit his wad of purple into the wrapper, dropping his arm so Daisuke could shove the spent gum in his pants pocket, feeling pleased with himself for their surprisingly effortless coordination.

“Now, since we are at the school store, we’ll start the tour, shall we? Kaito-kun’s lab is the closest. It’s quite a lot of stairs, five flights, so please take them at your own pace. Gonta-kun or K1-b0, please assist your classmates if needed?”

Korekiyo grabbed Gonta’s elbow, looking down.

“Gonta loves helping classmates,” Gonta said cheerfully.

* * *

“Whoah,” everyone murmured collectively.

“Damn,” Kaito added. “This is mine?”

“All yours. Have a look around.”

Kaito was like a little kid on their birthday.

“Let’s get some pictures of you in the flight sim, yeah?”

Right. Promotional photos. Kaito slid into the cockpit of the sim, powering everything up. He was... in his element so perfectly that when the shutters started he didn’t even care, or notice when Arukawa asked Tsumugi if she could slide in with him.

Right. Potential romantic interest. Kokichi smirked. He and Korekiyo found a corner to sit in and watch as Kaito got his photo shoot.

* * *

After descending back down from Kaito’s tower, they took a sharp left into an area that looked more like a dungeon.

“Any guesses?” Arukawa asked, standing near the door.

“Was going to guess Kokichi-kun’s, but... I think this is Himiko-chan’s,” Shuichi piped in.

“Bingo,” Arukawa replied, showing them the next room.

Another round of ooohs, another half-hour photo shoot.

Kokichi did the math. Between that and moving around the grounds.... were they shooting nine or ten full hours that day? He sighed, and made himself comfortable on a wobbly stool, smiling a little at Himiko flinging silk scarves all over Gonta.

* * *

Kokichi didn’t have long to wait.

“There’s only one other Ultimate Lab accessible directly from the first floor, but let me show you all some of the common areas before that,” Arukawa said, shuttling everyone out of Himiko’s lab. “The cafeteria, gym, warehouse and a few classrooms are also here. The warehouse, school store, and cafeteria are all free to use and will be restocked regularly. The only thing that isn’t is the capsule machine on the first floor. Successfully completing a class trial will earn you coins you can spend in it. And we’ve gone and hidden some all over the campus as well. Items in your labs, with a few exceptions, will  **_not_ ** be replaced if broken or used up.”

Shuichi suddenly looked relieved, popping another piece of strawberry bubblegum in his mouth.

“Basement is this way, no labs here but there’s a rec room and library,” Arukawa added, taking them down a set of stairs.

Kokichi followed the rest of the bunch, pickpocketing Shuichi’s strawberry gum and trading it out for Daisuke’s when he wasn’t paying attention.

Grape was nasty, tasted like medicine to Kokichi.

* * *

“Okay, so back to the first floor, aaaaand...” Arukawa flipped a switch in the main entryway and the tile shifted, clicking out of the way and down into a new set of stairs.

“This has to be mine,” Kokichi remarked. “We’ve already seen Himiko’s, she’d be the only other person who’d have a trick to their door, riiiiiight?”

Arukawa bit her lip. “We won’t be seeing everyone’s labs. A few of them have.... shall we say, surprises in them. But Kokichi-kun is correct. This one is his. Everyone, please watch your step.”

The group slowly descended down the stairs, guided by candlelight.

Kokichi shuffled to the front of the pack, to be closest to Arukawa leading the way. Why would she show  **_his_ ** lab? Wouldn’t that expose what his talent wa-

Holy shit.

Kokichi’s jaw dropped and Daisuke pinched his thigh.

‘ **_She gave me the goddamn spy car... she wasn’t joking_ ** ..’

Like a little kid, Kokichi made a running break for the giant “swivel chair reveal” chair at the top of the console bank, slid into it, and spun around laughing.

“K1-b0, will you join him?” Arukawa asked politely.

K1-b0 laughed, a small grin on his face, and got behind Kokichi’s chair, peeking out from one side.

“Ooooh....” Miu squealed. Kokichi looked behind him, and K1-b0 had changed his eyes. They were glowing a solid, sinister red, and K1-b0 had turned on his status collar as well, text floating on the display around his neck.

“Er, wait,” K1-b0 added, before pulling up a loose piece of black fabric hanging around his neck, to cover the lower half of his face. “How is this?” he added.

“Fantastic,” the photographer said. “You look like you’re going to rule the world together.”

Kokichi grinned.

* * *

They had Miu join him next, and Kokichi gave up his seat for his taller friend, so they could sit and stand respectively at roughly the same height.

That is, until Miu dragged him over the side of the chair by his cape’s front clasp to kiss him for the camera.

Kokichi’s whole body went numb from the shock, both of being utterly overpowered as well as the kiss. Daisuke had never been kissed before- maybe on the cheek as an infant before his parents had OD’d and died, but certainly not as long as he could remember, nor as passionately and absolutely not on the lips. Kokichi himself had parents but neither of them were the kissing type, and certainly not any recent false memories he could think of, though he and his own version of Ai had exchanged light pecks from time to time, so he had something to go off of, even if it weren’t real.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like it- and he’d expected it at some point given what they’d made of him, but... well, he was just glad almost his whole body was under his control. Daisuke probably wasn’t pleased, and there wasn’t a means to ask, with his upper body dragged over the armrest.

“Miu-chan...” Kokichi started, when Miu finally let him stumble back. “ **_Ask_ ** next time?”

Miu went flush. “I...I... I...”

Kokichi lowered his voice so only she and K1-b0, standing just out of frame of the cameras could hear. “Look, I get it. We need to play it up for the audience. It’s a show, and we have roles. But I’m still a person, and I’d prefer a warning. Now  **_scoot_ ** .”

Kokichi gently nudged her over in the chair. “ **_This_ ** is how you do this.  **_May_ ** I sit on your lap, Miu-chan?”

Miu turned beet red. “I figured if I didn’t just kiss you, you wouldn’t ever let a piece of garbage like me near you...” she whispered back, as she patted her knee.

Kokichi bunched up his cape behind him, mentally cursing the thing. As cool as it looked, it was a huge pain in the ass. He sat on Miu, and held the cape fabric out behind him. Daisuke took it and shook it out, letting it fall in a wave over the side of the armrest.

“Now if  **_everyone_ ** consents, let’s try that again for the cameras?”

Kokichi held his right arm close to his side.

‘ **_Y_ ** ’ was all Daisuke rapped out.

“O-okay...” Miu said, quivering.

Kokichi lifted his right arm up and around, resting it on Miu’s left shoulder. To his surprise, Daisuke began to gently support Miu’s neck from behind. Kokichi took Miu’s own right hand with his left, placing it at his hip. “Good?” he asked, as much for Miu as it was for the camera crew.

“Fantastic composition...” one of the men holding a reflector said quietly.

Miu shut her eyes and Kokichi did the same, leaning in for a second try, putting his own hand on her left shoulder as they locked lips.

Kokichi just tried to ignore Kaito’s obnoxious whistle as he heard the clack of a shutter.

* * *

‘ **_Thanks for asking me, too_ ** ,’ Daisuke tapped as the group walked up to the second floor after the rest of their shoot, dusting themselves off after getting stepped on and handcuffed by Shuichi near the end of their photos. The fujoshis would be happy with  **_that_ ** photo, at the very least.

Daisuke certainly seemed so too, if the wave of emotions washing over Kokichi with Shuichi’s foot square on their back and the detective carefully gripping Daisuke’s hand to cuff it was any indication.

‘ **_You like the kinky stuff don’t you_ ** ?’ Kokichi smirked as he tapped. ‘ **_And hey, you’re a rental. I need to return it in the condition I found it, don’t I? What’s the fines on this thing if I bring it back damaged_ ** ?’

‘ **_Three million yen_ ** ,’ Daisuke snapped back as the group stood outside what Kokichi assumed was Kaede’s lab.

“This one’s small. Camera crew, and Kaede-chan and her suitors only, please. The rest of you can watch from the door.”

Kaede took Shuichi by the wrist. “Can we... can we kiss sitting at the piano? Is that okay?”

“S... sure,” Shuichi replied, turning a little red, looking down. “I’m not... I’m not that great though. Don’t expect what Kokichi-kun... actually, uh... Kokichi-kun. You seem to have an eye for this. Could you pose us?” Shuichi fidgeted with the hem of his gakuran.

“I’ll make you two the cuuuuutest couple,” Kokichi said with a giant grin.

“Okay, see, now I’m concerned,” Kaede replied.

“What, you think I’m going to photobomb the moment?” Kokichi asked.

“No, I  **_know_ ** you will. Just give us a few cute ones before you do?”

“Uh-uh. I get to mess with it first. Then I’ll clear out,” Kokichi replied, breaking up Kaede’s grip on Shuichi, taking her wrist with his hand, and letting Daisuke take Shuichi.

Shuichi looked visibly relieved, and squeezed Daisuke’s hand back.

Kokichi grinned as he dragged both of them to the piano to pose them like dolls. There was something about having that kind of control over others that lit a spark in him, while it seemed like Daisuke was actually happy to relinquish it for a while.

A hand reaching for a high note here, so Kaede’s wrist could brush Shuichi’s. A lean there. A few longing looks later and the couple looked complete. But Kokichi noticed. Shuichi wasn’t looking at Kaede. Not really.

He was looking  **_past_ ** her.

* * *

Floor after floor, and two of the labs were skipped. One was likely Ryoma’s, but Kokichi had no idea whose the other one’s was on the same floor that was left unopened. As they went through more of them, he’d probably be able to narrow that down.

The third floor smelled like incense. Daisuke tapped out a ‘ha’ as the burn made their eyes water. Kokichi was just happy to be out and up on the floor above, designed more like a chapel.

“This one is going to take some time; Shuichi-kun’s lab is on this floor,” Arukawa explained. “As is Tsumugi-chan’s. Anyone who is a suitor of Tsumugi-chan, let’s have her and Shuichi go first. Then anyone who isn’t can come to his lab, and Tsumugi-chan and her group can finish up so we aren’t waiting. Then they can get photographed with him once they finish. Good? Let’s all go to the cosplay lab first so everyone can see it, and maybe have a break for drinks?”

The group nodded, following the professor off to the left of the stairs.

Tsumugi’s lab was a gigantic set, in the literal sense despite the whole building being one.

“Please feel free to raid the bar, there’s soft drinks and juice.”

Kokichi took Arukawa up on her offer, sliding behind the piece of a set and rifling through the ice cooler on the bartenders side, pouring in a bit of grenadine followed by orange juice into a highball glass.

Kirumi curtsied and he let her by.

“Allow me, Kokichi-kun. You’ve put in too much grenadine, that will merely taste like sugar. I shall prepare drinks for us all.”

“You just think I’ll slip in some booze,” Kokichi replied with a giant Cheshire grin.

“I highly doubt they stocked this with any form of alcohol. I do however fear you’ll add pickle juice or hot sauce to sweet drinks for the kicks.”

Kokichi snorted, throwing up his arms. “But I  **_like_ ** the combo of sweet and savory!” he whined.

“You and what army?” Kirumi replied, sickly-sweet as she began scooping ice in tall glasses.

* * *

Shuichi’s lab was as small as Tsumugi’s was large, barely big enough for six people to stand comfortably. Kokichi and the rest of the non-Tsumugi group sat out on the hallway tile, waiting for Angie to finish with her Lothario. When she exited the room, a small blush on her cheeks, Kokichi stretched and wobbled upright, almost tripping over his cape in the process.

‘ **_We are not wearing that damn thing during the game_ ** ,’ Daisuke whined. ‘ **_There’s rule of cool and then there’s annoying as hell_ ** .’

Kokichi grinned as he felt the warmth of Daisuke’s happiness return. He grinned harder as Shuichi was guided in tying him down to a chair for interrogation, scarcely able to look up at his shorter friend.

Yeah, Kokichi noted. His host liked the kinky stuff.

* * *

Miu and K1-b0, unsurprisingly, shared one lab together. Hers was on the first floor, his a separate entrance that connected around to create an awkward second floor. By the structure, Kokichi guessed the two labs wouldn’t actually open up at the same time. 

K1-b0 was the only one who wasn’t squealing at seeing his lab space. ‘It’s just... normal,” he commented, looking at the strewn parts and his charging dock stuffed in the back of the space. “Just... a bit more sci-fi.”

“Well, it’s practical, at least,” Kokichi reminded him. “Most of my stuff is just props or useless. How am I supposed to move the car or chopper out of mine? The door is too small. And we won’t have lift access during the game.”

K1-b0 laughed a little. “How is it you always bring me back down to earth? Come on, let’s head downstairs to Miu’s lab. She actually has the workbench. I’m sure they’ll want photos of you and her operating on me.”

“Do I have to kiss you too?”

“If you want isopropyl on your mouth, sure. I just washed my face this morning. Do... do you think Miu will kiss me too?” Kokichi snorted as K1-b0’s cowlick actually managed to contort itself into a question mark as he asked. Maybe it was part of the emotes Miu installed for him.

“Do you want her to?” Kokichi asked, cocking his head side-to side as he put his arms behind it.

“I... I do.”

“Then get a wet wipe and get the rubbing alcohol off your face and ask her!”

“I.. ah...” K1-b0 stuttered.

“I mean, the worst that she says is no, right? And I’m sure I can get Shuichi-kun to kiss you if you wanted it,” Kokichi added with a smirk. “Get the BL fans happy.”

K1-b0’s face reddened instantly as Kokichi grinned brighter.

“You little cretin!” K1-b0 managed to retort.

“Well if he won’t, I will,” Kokichi said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I want to see exactly how you short-circuit anyway.”

K1-b0 growled, chasing after Kokichi as he slid down the banister towards Miu’s part of the lab, his laughter echoing off the metal.

* * *

It was nearly dark when they all finally finished, when Arukawa pulled out a small remote and did something incredible.

With a few presses, it was mid-day again.

“Sorry, I should have warned some of you. We want a few more of everyone on the grounds, please.”

“Uh, how the heck did you  **_do_ ** that?”

“The sky is a projection. It lets us adjust the length of days and nights if needed. It will keep to a standard 24 hour cycle unless we need to change it,” Arukawa explained. “It also lets us fool three of your classmates.”

Kokichi looked confused.

“You’ll see when I set it back to the standard time. Gonta-kun will probably figure it out first.”

Kokichi shrugged and went to join the group.

“Everyone smile! This is for a centerfold in Jump!”

A rough hand grabbed Kokichi- Kaito, who had pulled him into the mass of people Kokichi was beginning to call his friends.

* * *

A feast, laid out before them in the dining hall. Kokichi went down the buffet line laid out on the long table, pushing the door to the patio back out to the courtyard under the fake sky once he’d filled his plate.

Gonta was looking up, hand outstretched in confusion, and when Kaito had his own plate and stepped out to the cooler evening air, his own eyes also traveled upwards.

Rantaro blinked and craned his own neck up, too.

“What are you virgins even staring at?” Miu said, from her plate of sashimi and eel. “City slickers never seen stars before?”

“Gonta not from city,” Gonta replied. “And that the problem. Stars are wrong.”

“Normally I’d think that we were maybe in the Southern Hemisphere, but...” Rantaro added, sourly. “I’ve sailed around Chile. No matter how you slice it, Gonta-kun is correct. I wonder why they made the sky incorrectly? It’s not like it’s physically wrong, like people putting a star in the dark part of a waning moon. These constellations are plausible.”

“Maybe our season is... set on another planet?” Kaito said with a shrug. “Would explain a lot of the setup. I could probably run back up to my lab and cross reference the view from known Class-A planets.”

“Between the robot diggers, some of the choices of talents, and your lab up top, that sounds plausible,” Shuichi added, stepping out and putting his tray down next to Miu. “I saw a few metal contraptions labeled  _ 02 Generators _ behind K1-b0’s lab entrance, too. They were blowing out warm air.”

“Pure oxygen. Did you put your head near them and try to breathe it?” Kaito asked, as he went back to his food, still looking up from time to time.

“What.  **_No_ ** . Why?”

“Because pure oxygen can get you high. If those are more than just props, trust me, you’d know. Astronauts have to get used to it, and the air we breathe is usually mixed with nitrogen anyway.”

“Oh,” Shuichi replied quietly, before turning back to his own food.

“Stars wrong, but still pretty,” Gonta said with finality, nodding to himself. “Also, Gonta surprised. We have large courtyard, but other than bugs in Gonta’s own lab, in containers, there none anywhere. Not even flea.”

“If this is supposed to be a generation ship, it would make sense,” Kaito responded between bites. “You wouldn’t want the flora and fauna samples running amok.”

“A generation ship, huh...” Kokichi replied, moving his right arm so Daisuke could pick up their fried udon. “So what, the plot is we’re the last humans alive? It would explain the goddamn love hotel. To boldly go- or boldly  **_come_ ** \- and all that,” he snickered, opening his mouth so Daisuke could feed them.

K1-b0 smacked him, playfully on the shoulder.

“What, was that for the human comment, or the sex joke?” Kokichi asked innocently, puppy dog eyes in full effect.

“I’ll let you figure that out,” K1-b0 replied, hovering a hand at an angle near Kokichi’s plate, probably to smell it and in some small way partake in dinner.

Kokichi lowered his arm a little, and Daisuke, chopsticks in hand, nudged K1-b0’s slightly out of the way so he could get another helping of his dinner from his plate to mouth. K1-b0 simply stared and watched, knowing what the two of them were doing.

“Human dexterity always seems to amaze me,” K1-b0 articulated. “I remember the first time I was able to successfully pick up a single piece of long grain rice with chopsticks.”

Miu grinned lecherously. “Want me to make your dexterity even better?”

K1-b0 flushed red, considering her implications. “For now, I think I’ll pass. Thank you, though, Miu-chan.”

* * *

A full tub. Thank the gods. Kokichi flopped down on his bed, stretching out in his private space before shucking off everything for a hot shower and a soak.

The dorms were small, but private. The only thing Kokichi minded was the lack of a window, but then again, it meant he could change out in the bedroom proper without worrying about flashing anyone passing by the outside. Kokichi messed with the thermostat, raising the room temperature, and went to fill the tub before running the shower.

Curious, he checked his bathroom sink. Hair gel he found in the cabinet, as well as a few non prescription medications like ibuprofen and antacid tablets, a box of adhesive bandages, toothpaste and a toothbrush.

No makeup, no contact case or solution. He tried a few drawers, and no dice, before noting a notch in the top drawer. Flicking at it, it’s false bottom slid back to reveal what he was looking for and Kokichi took out his contacts, prepping his case with solution as he knew to do. When he was done, he put everything back and shut the drawer and...

What was he doing again? Oh, right, he’d stepped in the bathroom to shower, but his vision was fuzzy for some reason. And didn’t his bathroom have a mirror in it? Or...

Kokichi cried in pain as his right hand began to hurt, its fingers curling into a fist on their o-oh.

Daisuke.

Kokichi shook his head out and relaxed his hand. The pain subsided almost instantly, and he dropped his arm to his side.

‘ **_Closing that drawer up triggers the memory light, and I think it also turns the mirror into a solid panel, too. So you will never see yourself except in full face_ ** ,’ Daisuke noted. ‘ **_I don’t think it’s that much different for us, except you’re paler than me with a different eye color, but for people like Kore or Shu or Miu_ ** ...’

‘ **_Yeah, it’s what I think too_ ** ,’ Kokichi replied, before rubbing the crust from his eye, letting Daisuke do the same. ‘ **_Thanks for waking me back from that_ ** .’

‘ **_I guess I’ll have to do that twice a day. Morning and night. Sorry in advance. That smarts something fierce_ ** .’

‘ **_Hot shower, hotter bath_ ** ,’ Kokichi replied.

* * *

Kokichi pulled on pajamas, and, when discovering he had a closet full of his uniform, balled his up in the corner, draping the cape on his desk chair instead, and hung the hat on a hook on the side of his closet. He could also go and throw in a wash in Kirumi’s lab, he knew how to do his own laundry.

He finally flopped on the bed, then wriggled under the covers.

‘ **_No snoring tonight_ ** ,’ Kokichi tapped, getting comfortable in a bed where he could actually see the ceiling.

‘ **_No snoring_ ** .’ Daisuke replied, in light, slow taps.

Kokichi went to bed feeling upset, and he knew exactly why.


	23. Temporary Additions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember his I said I was making K1-b0?  
> Check out my collar!
> 
> https://askalombax.tumblr.com/post/167430259918/k1-b0-progress  
> https://askalombax.tumblr.com/post/167363950203/progress-eyes-need-to-be-dimmed-a-lot  
> https://askalombax.tumblr.com/post/167285798438/askalombax-riella-h-askalombax-working

Kokichi yawned and stretched.

‘ **_Once my contacts go in, I’m going to forget again. Keep an eye out for me, would you_ ** ?’

‘ **_Roger_ ** .’

Kokichi shuffled into the bathroom, preparing for the inevitable once he put in his contacts and did his face, noting that when the trick drawer opened, the panel in the bathroom turned back into a mirror.

He inhaled deeply, as he placed his things back in the drawer, bracing for impact as he closed it.

He shoved it shut and looked at his hair in the mirror, blinking out a daze from having just woken, rummaging through the cabinet for a brush and some hair gel.

He winced, and, with the pain and loss of control of his right hand, was whole again.

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

Kokichi passed Daisuke the brush and the two of them fixed their hair before cracking their neck and buttoning up their straight jacket and pants, tying the kerchief around their neck and leaving the goddamn cloak on the back of the chair and the hat on his hook.

Only then did Kokichi realize he had no idea what time it was.

If the sky outside was a good rough estimation, he might be able to know. But there were no clocks in his room, not even on the television mount. Kokichi frowned, slipped on his shoes, and left his room. A walk would do him some good to settle his nerves. He  **_hated_ ** that goddamn trick drawer, but he also knew he was being watched. Leaving his contacts case out on the sink counter would probably arouse suspicion, and the last thing he wanted was to get sent back to the memory room to the point of Daisuke being suppressed completely.

The air was warm, and the sun had just risen. Six in the morning, then?  He assumed at some point Arukawa would come knocking or use the televisions in the room as an alarm as he’d seen on some prior seasons. Tenko’s dojo and K1-b0’s lab were gone from the grounds, and the pool area was covered in thick, thorny vines. Kokichi could hear angry grunts and groans on the grassy area where Tenko’s lab should have been, seeing her in a white gi working out her own frustrations with morning training against an unwitting tree. He let her be.

K1-b0 should have been awake too, shouldn’t he? Unless he was charging, and, even then, he wasn’t  _ sleeping _ so much as merely  _ immobile _ . Carefully, he listened, hearing the faint sound of power tools, following it to Miu’s lab, the door propped open with a broken radio.

“This is your last chance for the special, K1-b0,” Miu said, leaning over a gaudy pinkish-purple chair that was the perfect size for K1-b0 to recline in as she worked.

“All I ask is for a tune up,” he replied. “I know they’re going to be removing or weakening many of my functions and I would prefer your hard work not go to waste. You can still work on me after the game begins, can you not?”

“Yeah,” she replied, poking her pointer fingers together in embarrassment as she powered down her drill and laid it on a table. “But that doesn’t mean you... you’d trust me. We won’t remember each other. I don’t think anyone-”

“I trust you, Miu-chan,” Kokichi piped up, leaning in the doorway.

“But I’m gross and needy and trash and...”

Kokichi cut her off. “You know what we do with trash in Japan, right?”

Miu looked confused. “We burn it.”

“And then what?”

“Well it’s burned.”

“It powers people’s homes.  **_Cities_ ** . If you’re going to insist you’re trash, at least acknowledge that that’s something people want, you know?”

Miu began to sob. “Why are you so good to me?”

Kokichi spread his arms wide and smiled. “Takes trash to know trash.  Anyway. K1-b0, you said you cleaned your face yesterday. When’s the last time you got a wax?”

K1-b0 sat up and frowned. “They waxed my chassis before I entered it two months ago. That’s the last time.”

“So there. Miu-chan, you’re being insistent because you need something to do, don’t you? You really hate sitting still.”

Miu nodded, and clapped her hands with a lecherous smile. “So, my little exhibitionist...” she said, back to devilish facade. “They’re not going to make you get dirty. Let me give you a full car-wash with that tune up, huuuh? I’m Iruma Miu, beautiful girl genius, and I’m going to make you shine so hard you can see your face when you look down at your crotch!”

K1-b0 nodded quietly at Kokichi before facing Miu. “I would appreciate that. Though maybe with a little less... imagery?” he added with a wry smile. “Can I get some assistance removing this thing? I cannot easily detach the clamps on my backside,” he added, tugging at his power suit.

“I have nothing better to do,” Kokichi added, shrugging. “Need some extra hands?”

“You can put the dirty rags in the fumigator when I finish with them,” Miu replied, grinning.

“Aw, come on!”

“Takes trash to know trash. Chop-chop, slave boy!”

Kokichi rolled his eyes, but dutifully rolled up his sleeves and searched around the workshop for Miu as she barked orders at him.

“Man, I didn’t actually take you of all people for a beta. Figured you’re more of a top,” Miu added, sticking out her tongue and laughed, spraying spit as she shrieked.

“Oh, so what was yesterday, then?” Kokichi smirked back, as he helped K1-b0 unsnap the back electroluminescent tape and spinal clamp on his costume. Those removed, K1-b0 seemed to be able to get the rest of it off. “K1-B0, are you going to be okay with that thing? You don’t need to shower or anything, but if you can’t get in or out of it yourself…”

“I’m… it’s fine. I don't sweat or need the facilities, and I can still recharge with it on, so long as I detach the collar. Basically, the only time I’d likely need to remove it is if one of you is working on me, anyway.”

“Ooooookay,” Kokichi replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I see it more like skin than clothing,” K1-b0 added, twiddling his fingers once he’d taken off his boots and gloves. “It’s made of knifeproof material, and the metal plates protect ingress to my most fragile sensors. And, and, Miu-chan made it, so…”

“You don't need to justify yourself,” Kokichi replied, putting a hand on K1-b0’s shoulder, before adding a smirk for good measure. “Aaaaaaanyway, I’m done here.”

“You’re not staying?”

“I think Miu-chan knows how to wax some scrap metal. I’ll leave her to it and go do something else. There’s a couple RC drones in my lab I need to fuck with anyway.”

K1-b0 soured at ‘scrap metal’, but nodded politely. If anyone had an idea how Kokichi actually functioned that wasn’t his own writing staff… it was K1-b0. “You really don’t need to go.”

“Bah, I don’t feel like being a third wheel this morning,” Kokichi said, stepping over the radio at the doorway.

Miu didn’t feel like she belonged, and Kokichi wasn’t going to get in between her and one of the few things that made her honestly happy.

* * *

Kokichi didn’t get five feet before he was grabbed on the wrist from behind with considerable force. “MIU!” he yelped, before realizing the strength had to be one of the guys.

“Kokichi-kun, I, ah, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Kokichi blinked twice and the hand grabbing him slackened, the person attached to it walking around in front of him. Brown hair with a cowlick, a green sweatshirt under a suit jacket, lace up sneakers.

“Do I know you?” Kokichi asked quietly. “Wait. I saw… I saw a picture with those clothes hanging up back in Tsumugi’s bunk. What anime is that from and who did Tsumugi-chan rope into wearing it?”

The kid smiled. “Don’t recognize me?”

Kokichi tried to come up with something witty but was just dumbfounded. If the person in front of him was asking, clearly it was someone he knew and couldn’t place, and not even Daisuke had anything to tell him, his right hand merely at his side. “I’m guessing I should, but not even the voice. Tsumugi-chan… is, is that you?”

The kid let out a sharp laughing puff of air. “It’s  **_Toshiro_ ** . Um, here,” Toshiro lifted the corner of his lip, and a miniscule black box was spirit-gummed inside his mouth. “Tsumugi-chan can make herself sound like whomever, but she gave me these mini voice changers. It’s… really kind of creepy. They just adjust on the fly. I think some of the robotics lab took my audio work for K1-b0 and miniaturized it.”

Kokichi smirked a bit. “I know she’s got a habit of roping people into trying on her costumes, but I’ve never seen her go  **_that_ ** far. Voice nothing, your entire face structure is different.”

“Latex,” he added, poking at his cheek. “And, well, speaking of roping, Tohru-kun and I got dragged into overseeing your mock trial today. They wanted to give Rantaro-kun a break, he was going to be asked to like he did last season. Tsumugi-chan got wind, and woke me at 4am to drag me up to her lab. I’m pretty sure she went back down the lifts to go abduct Tohru-kun from the outside facility for a makeover.”

“Wait, nobody said we could go back down the lifts.”

Toshiro shrugged. “They technically haven’t closed them off yet, so I guess you still can.  **_God_ ** , this feels weird to talk.”

Kokichi made a sharp mental note to try heading down the one he knew of in the school store later that night when people were asleep.

“But… uh… I get that she compulsively just throws people in costumes, but, uh… why?” Kokichi asked, cocking his head. He remembered last week when she begged him to try on some character named Ramza, with full foam-made plate mail. He had to admit, it was pretty badass, and he ran through the hallways chasing K1-b0 with his giant foam sword until Tenko subdued him and almost broke the prop in the process.

Toshiro rolled his eyes and spouted off his sentence dryly and sarcastically, as if repeating what Tsumugi had told him. “ **_If you’re going to lead our mock trial, you should really look the part_ ** .”

“Oooooh, she dressed you as one of the old Danganronpa game protagonists.”

“Yeah the first one. Makoto-something-or-other. My guess is she’ll make Tohru-kun the one from the second game. You really need to see this. It’s… well. It’s something else. And they’re not serving breakfast until nine anyway. I’ve got nothing better to do, and I kind of wanted to watch Tsumugi-chan work. I mean, it’s not this extreme but, you guys all had… oh…”

“Had what?” Kokichi knew that Toshiro was talking about all their own makeovers as well, just not nearly as… intense as what Toshiro and presumably Tohru had been dragged into. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t lie and play dumb for the shits and giggles.

Toshiro tried to cover for himself. “Kokichi-kun, do you  **_really_ ** think your hair is purple or Miu-chan’s is blonde?”

Kokichi yanked at his hair until his head moved with it. “Well, it’s not a wig. Duh.”

Toshiro went to facepalm, and thought better of it at the last moment. “She’ll murder me now if I screw up her work. I’m going, with or without you. At the very least, she’s got drinks in her lab.”

* * *

Kokichi finally mixed up his over-sweet virgin Sunrise without Kirumi taking it from him, as he watched Tsumugi make a quick-mold of Tohru’s face from the corner of his eye. She worked blindingly fast, humming tunes to herself. Probably anime openings, his suspicions confirmed when she began singing Cruel Angel’s thesis mildly out of tune.

Kokichi found the bottle of siracha, topping his drink with a bit of the chili-pepper vinegar, taking the bottle from Daisuke when he wouldn’t pour it in, and downing the whole glass in a gulp left-handed.

‘ **_That was disgusting_ ** ,’ Daisuke whined.

‘ **_Yeah well so is grape flavored anything. I want some of those sukiyaki caramels they have in the capsule machine_ ** .’ Kokichi shot back. ‘ **_And I haven’t found a stinking token yet anywhere_ ** .’

‘ **_Well, then, go pickpocket the damn thing like you did Shu yesterday. You seem to be good at it, also, gross- meat candy? The heck did Toki give you_ ** ?’

Kokichi couldn’t tell if Daisuke was being mad or sarcastic, merely choosing to let it go, rolling his shoulders, and rummaged through the fridge again. After shuffling around the contents of the chill chest, he pulled out a bottle of sparkling grape juice, setting it on the counter so he could ‘talk’.

‘ **_Here, I’ll drink this and wash it out_ ** .’

‘ **_They have apple juice too, we just saw it_ ** .’

‘ **_I don't like grape flavor. Actual grapes are fine. Hold the glass still and I’ll pour_ ** .’

* * *

Toshiro was right, watching Tsumugi work was mesmerizing. She was a special effects pro if he ever saw one. Kokichi could see her going on to work in film after the game was over, easily. Was that how Toshiro saw Miu and himself when they loomed over K1-b0, completely in their elements?

“Hmmm, now, Hajime or Izuru?” Tsumugi said aloud, hands on hips as she bobbed her head side to side in thought. “I have what I’d need for either, but I think Izuru’s wig would be too heavy for you if you don't have practice with this sort of thing. His hair is longer than mine.”

“No thanks,” Tohru said between clenched teeth as he waited for the adhesive to set on the appliances on his face. He looked a good six or seven years younger between the makeup and latex, and yet it still looked real. Well, except for the fact that he had no hair, hidden cleanly under a wig cap adhered to his scalp to prevent it from shifting.

“Okay, then just contacts and hair,” Tsumugi replied, stars nearly in her eyes as she clapped her hands to get the rest she needed from storage.

“You’ll need something prescription, I already am wearing contacts,” he yelled, trying not to let anything move before it finished curing.

* * *

Kokichi helped Tsumugi rummage through her contacts cabinet, finding gold, the same shade Shuichi had, in the correction Tohru asked for.

“I’m putting them in myself. Got a case and solution for what I have in?” he asked, as Kokichi handed him what he needed, getting a better look at Tsumugi’s work. She’d gone and even given him a hint of acne scarring, and a few faded sun-flecked freckles along his nose. He wasn’t going to be on camera, so she went for realistic, and not show-ready. It was actually a bit creepy, but hey, the whole situation was, so what was one more thing to the pile?

Tohru quickly swapped his plain contacts for the colored ones, while Tsumugi carefully affixed his wig in place, taking away the salon apron when done.

“Open your mouth, and I can give you a voice changer, too,” Tsumugi said, a bit giddy. “The latex glue should have cured by now, you can move your mouth completely.”

“Ah, okay,” Tohru replied. “Do I even want to see what I look like in the mirror?”

“Well, young enough to have your driver’s license revoked,” Kokichi said, behind a smirk, behind his hand. “You might give me a run for my money in the jailbait department.”

“You still remember the station?” Tohru asked curiously.

“Yeah, you picked up me, Shuichi, Kaito, and Maki. We had fried udon and Kaito sat up front and wouldn't shut up. Unless… that's what Danganronpa wanted me to remember?” Kokichi added the last bit, ending in an uneasy uptick to see how Tohru, the first person from Team Danganronpa he’d met when arriving, would respond.

Tohru blinked in surprise, casting a glance at Toshiro. “No, that’s what actually happened,” he said after a pause, holding his mouth open so Tsumugi could fit in the voice changer with tweezers. He shifted uneasily in his chair, looking at Kokichi. “Call… call it morbid curiosity. What… how does going under those lights work? What do you even remember? I… kind of wanted to stay away from everyone. The whole thing just creeped me out.”

“Yeah, like the second night you wouldn’t even look me or Miu-chan in the eyes when we fixed K1-b0’s balance problems.”

“You even remember that?”

Kokichi pulled up a stool, and Tsumugi did the same. “Well,” Tsumugi started. “see, I know my life up until this point. I know I’ve gone for memory room sessions. But… I don’t know what’s changed because it was changed already, does that make sense? Someone plain like me can’t really explain it that well.”

“No, that’s how I’d say it, too. Like, I know what my life is like for the past seventeen years, but how much of it did you guys change? Like rewriting a draft of a story, where some paragraphs are left untouched but others were redone hundreds of times. If you pick the novel up on the shelf, you only know the story you read in the book, but, I’m sure the author knows what was changed over the editing process… that's the best I could say.

“Like… I know your name is Tohru, and that you’re in your late 20’s, and a grad student roboticist from Todai. But if you walked up to, say, Himiko-chan right now, and introduced yourself as another seventeen-year-old contestant, she wouldn’t bat an eye. Your looks, your voice, and whatever history you give her is what she’ll believe and know as truth. I guess it's the same for us. We have the finished novel. But I have no idea what kinds of edits got made.

“I could probably take some guesses, but I’ve talked with Shuichi-kun who can even corroborate some of it. So, either he’s lying, we were both overwritten in the same ways, or I was wrong about what’s changed upstairs. Not that that’s going to matter much. Aren’t they giving us some more lights tomorrow to completely overwrite our time since coming here? They might even mess around with us some more. I already know that they will for me. Arukawa said they’re deleting Shuichi-kun from my memories, which leads me to believe we  **_did_ ** know each other before coming here.”

Kokichi settled back on his stool, incredibly pleased with the lie he’d think was truth if Daisuke hadn’t snapped him out of it that morning.

“That’s… a better summary than boring old me could say,” Tsumugi piped in. “Tohru-kun, why don’t I turn on your voice changer and you can go look in the mirror.”

“I’m 80% sure I don’t want to even know,” Tohru said, stretching. “I was an ugly ass high schooler and I don’t think I’ll look much- goddamn it, did you have to turn it on mid sentence? I sound like an anime protagonist. Toshiro-kun you did way too good a job with this thing. K1-b0 sounding human was one thing, but this is a new level of weird.”

“It was nothing, I just wanted to give K1-b0 a voice he’d like,” Toshiro said, laughing and shrugging his shoulders. “And welcome to Danganronpa Protagonist Hell. We now officially have plot armor.”

Tohru rolled his eyes. “Well, if the two of us can fool K1-b0, I’ll be happy. Let me go see that mirror.”

Tohru rolled his shoulders and jumped up to go look in the corner full-length mirror. “Holy fuck, my mom wouldn’t recognize me.”

“Language, Hajime-kun,” Tsumugi jokingly chided. “You’re only a second year.”

Tohru shook his head and sighed. “Well, gosh gee willikers, this is disorienting.”

Kokichi could barely contain Daisuke’s mirth, and barked out a laugh for them both.

“Let’s… go meet everyone downstairs. We’re supposed to start right after food, and then Arukawa wants to film some stuff.”

“Another long day?” Kokichi asked, sitting up and stretching.

“I don’t know how you Ultimates do it,” Toshiro replied.

“Well, you’re one of us now right?  **_Temporarily_ ** ,” Kokichi replied with a smirk. “So, which one of you is getting fake murdered for our mock trial?”

“That’s for us to know and you to keep your trap shut at breakfast,” Tohru replied, flicking Kokichi in the ear.


	24. Last Night On Earth

“What’s the point?” Kokichi grumbled, kicking one of the shot-put balls in the warehouse, in the back. The group had been told to split up around the first floor of the campus, and Kaede would be walked around to meet them with ‘Makoto’ and ‘Hajime’. Kokichi took note as to everyone’s reactions when they’d joined them at breakfast- most of them recognized the pair on some level, a few people even thought Tsumugi and Kokichi were in cosplay themselves, as they let the two roboticists in first. K1-b0 suspected nothing, it seemed like he could detect continuous signals, like that of a radio transmitter or a wireless camera, but the voice changers were self-contained devices other than their on-off switches. Either that, or the robot suspected something but kept it quietly to himself. K1-b0 was kind, and naive in some ways, but neither stupid nor inobservant.

“The point- you mean of the research?” K1-b0 asked, bringing Kokichi back to their current frame of thought. He sat uneasily on a pallet as he watched Kokichi burn off some post-breakfast energy from his outer left camera, pulling off one of his gloves to marvel at the mirror shine on his chassis with the other three.

“No, I know why we’re all doing this stupid thing. I mean what’s the point of a mock trial, specifically? They’re just going to flash us again, and poof, why waste it?”

“ **_Phrasing_ ** ,” K1-b0 sighed out, before muttering, “You and Miu-chan are rubbing off on me  **_far_ ** too much… anyway…”

He paused to shake his head in dismay.

“Maybe it  **_is_ ** being filmed?” K1-b0 asked, rotating his wrist to marvel at Miu’s work. “It wouldn’t surprise me if it were some kind of supplementary materials for the show. And no other explanation makes much sense.”

“Then why have Toshiro-kun and Tohru-kun get involved? Rantaro-kun could have easily walked us through a trial, or Monokuma itself.”

“I… do not know. You are correct, that doesn’t add up at-”

“So, Akamatsu-chan, this is the warehouse.” ‘Makoto’ said, sliding open the door.

“It  **_is_ ** being filmed, I detect radio waves and a Wi-Fi signal,” K1-b0 hissed.

“Also, that was too many sets of footsteps,” Kokichi hissed back. “Hey, mind if I get into character for the cameras?”

“What do you-” K1-b0 started, before Kokichi grabbed K1-b0’s wrist and put his metallic hand to Kokichi’s forehead.

“Tag, I’m it!” Kokichi said with a grin.

Hastily, K1-b0 slipped his glove back on and ran towards the front of the warehouse to where the group had converged. Kokichi understood. The mock trial was probably going to be some kind of pre-show special. Wouldn’t this season mark 20 years of Danganronpa? No, 25, maybe? The first few versions were scripted things, they came out every few years instead of the current format.

Either way, he shrieked with laughter, yelling “HEY K1-B0, DO ROBOTS HAVE DICKS?” at the top of his lungs, as he chased his friend around the warehouse, just as he rounded in front of the camera crew. Ah, if Daisuke’s classmates realized that was him on camera when this aired…

He could feel Toshiro’s embarrassment seeping off his friend, who was just doing his best- and failing horribly- at keeping a straight face.

* * *

The investigation went uneventfully (they set up a fake murder in Kaede’s own room, so it made sense the cameras would follow her), the trial more so.

Of course they kept it relatively simple- it was a tutorial for the audience, not so much for themselves. The camera crew had stopped following them after the eighteen of them went into the elevator (they’d surprisingly not ‘killed off’ Rantaro, as Kokichi had suspected when he’d first heard of the swap, but another outside character from one of the old video games), but Kokichi could follow K1-b0’s own eyes to a small blinking light in the corner of the elevator down.

‘ **_Look where Kii does, and we can probably suss out where the hidden cameras are_ ** ,’ Daisuke commented, making his remark look like a nervous tic. Kokichi, for his part, made himself look as shifty as possible. Nobody had told him that he’d played the ‘killer’ here, so he’d have to assume he was innocent.

Which meant he needed to look as much like a killer as possible, get everyone to consider his own guilt, and do something to put the real one at ease- make them slip up.

* * *

Well, obviously the murder was fake, but it genuinely surprised Kokichi that the solution was Hajime and Makoto working together, making everyone in their own group innocent.

“Cut!” someone yelled, and one of the panels retreated, Arukawa walking through. Everyone relaxed a little, Tenko using her own trial podium as a support to stretch out.

“Good job, everyone! I think we’ve all deserved some lunch.”

For a moment, Kokichi could see past the panel Arukawa had come from. The area behind looked familiar. The underground tunnels! It made sense. The giant elevator they’d taken felt like it had gone as deep as they’d gone down and back up. Which meant the trial grounds- and the giant staged executions- were very easy to get to from the outside research facility. Actually, based on the layout he’d remembered, they were probably  **_directly under_ ** it.

Kokichi followed everyone mindlessly back up the service elevator to their dome, realizing one other important piece of information. Every time he’d had his memories shifted and altered, Daisuke underneath remained intact. It made it harder and harder for him to correctly pull up reality from his own memory, but Daisuke could with ease. And, while Daisuke wasn’t stupid, not by any stretch, he… well, he wasn’t Kokichi. Before Kokichi got stronger wipes tomorrow, he needed to pass on everything he’d deduced.

‘ **_Dai, tonight, after dinner, we go in the tunnels maybe? And before bed, remind me. I have some info I need to smuggle through tomorrow’s wipe. You’re going to be my mule._ ** ’

Daisuke just flicked his thigh.

* * *

Some more group photos, this time with ‘Makoto’ and ‘Hajime’ added in. 30 th anniversary, the banners said, and Kokichi ticked backwards. So, the first game was from 2009- no, wait, it would be 2040 when they finished shooting and post production, wouldn’t it? So, 2010.

His character was already written as being seventeen, but his own host’s birthday would be in two weeks… if they lived to see it. “Um, thanks, everyone, for letting us murder someone this morning,” Toshiro joked, still in full costume. A few laughs, as everyone sat on the patio enjoying their lunch. In the dome, it was early summer. Outside, from what he’d overheard from the complaining camera crew, it was near-freezing late fall rain. No wonder even Arukawa was leaning back in her chair under the manufactured sunshine, looking… relaxed, for once.

“Uh, on that note, I’d love to be able to wash my face at some point today, so, uh, Tsumugi-chan, how do I get this off?”

“I have your molds if they need it again, just peel it,” she said quietly, twirling some pasta on her fork.

“Oh, man, I’ve seen this on those hidden camera shows, I’ve always wanted to do this,” Toshiro said, grinning, as he touched his face, trying to figure out where to stick his fingers under the wig to separate it, slowly removing that first, then peeling off the latex appliances in ribbons.

“Ugh, gross,” Kaede whined. “It looks like you’re taking your skin off. Warn me first.” She didn’t look away, though, and seemed to still want to watch, out of morbid curiosity.

Toshiro finally took off the wig cap and shook himself out. K1-b0 turned his head down and laughed.

“Of course. Of course it was you…” he muttered. “Good job.”

“You still have bits stuck all over your face,” Tohru said, also laughing a little. “Go wash the rest off in the bathroom.”

“That bad?”

“Naw, you look fiiiiiine. Very fitting for a horror show,” Kokichi jeered.

Tohru stood up. “Now if you’ll excuse me,  **_I’m_ ** going to go detach my face in private.”

* * *

“So, uhhh, what’s left?” Kaito asked, once they were finished with lunch and Tohru and Toshiro had returned from cleaning themselves off, but still in their costumes. Toshiro sat with K1-b0, having popped off one of the bot’s ear covers to poke around inside at his auditory and audio recording equipment, holding out his voice changer from earlier. Toshiro casually tinkered, in the same way someone not as brilliant might tap their foot or bite their nails.

“There’s two more days here of things to do. For the rest of today, and the first half of tomorrow, we’ll be separating everyone for some more photographs, interviews, and also generating the materials for things you might come across during the killing game itself.”

“Like filming motive videos?” Ryoma asked gruffly, as he finished up a slice of cake.

“Yes.”

A quiet unease set in among them.

“Tomorrow after lunch, you’ll all be going under for a fairly long session- some longer still than others, as we do any last tweaks to your characters as needed, and remove the last two weeks- or really, give you two weeks of being in school followed by a kidnapping as  **_new_ ** memories to overwrite what you’ve witnessed. The morning after, the game begins. As soon as K1-b0 finishes his pre-game materials tomorrow, the robotics team will take him for his own memory adjustment.”

Kokichi closed his eyes, sighing a little.

This was their last night on Earth- as they’d remember it.

* * *

Kokichi followed one of the crew members back up to the fourth floor, to Tsumugi’s lab. In the back, the cosplay photoshoot setting had been swapped out from a fake ballroom to a simple wooden floor with a single stool.

On his climb up, he’d seen that there were all sorts of backdrops set up around the building- plain white, plain colors, green screens, all numbered. The sixteen contestants would likely be cycled through them over this afternoon and the following morning for various pieces of promotional items or in game things.

“Okay, this is going to be your interview video. Please change into your other costume, there’s a curtain somewhere back there with your things.”

Kokichi did as he was told, tugging at the high collared jacket once Daisuke had buttoned it up. He felt so, so small.

“What do I… what do I say?” Kokichi asked, as he sat down on the stool and the lights blinded him.

“Well, you’re entrant number 245, you can use whatever pseudonym you like or your own name. We’ll beep that out. A lot of people give a backstory opposite to who they are, so that when people watch the special features they get surprised at how different they are. Just say your name, why you’d want to audition, and an ultimate skill you’d want to have. If you’re really stuck, we have a pre written one for you on a teleprompter, but it’s usually more realistic if you’re thinking about it as you go.”

“Ah, okay, when should I go?”

“Whenever you’re ready. We’re already rolling.”

Kokichi scratched the back of his neck, and folded into himself a little.

“Uh… uh…. hi.” Kokichi began, mumbling into his shirt, someone with a mic just out of view tottered a boom a hair closer, before Kokichi looked up to where he assumed the camera was for dramatic effect. He couldn’t see much out of the lights in his face. “I’m entry number… what was my number?” he asked fidgeting. “245, right? And, um, my name is Ouma Kokichi. I’m 17, I’m from Kansai, and, um…”

Kokichi thought of something to endear the crowds who would likely see him as a monster within the game.

“I’m dying. I’m lucky if I have a month left.”

The words felt hollow, but not because Kokichi felt like he was lying. No, they were hollow because Kokichi  **_knew they were the truth_ ** . The killing game would end with either both him and Daisuke dead, or just him, as Daisuke got his body back. Either way, Kokichi didn’t need to lie here.

His voice grew stronger, as his eyes pierced the light to stare directly at the audience.

“It… it’s complicated, and I know I was almost disqualified earlier when I had that seizure, spasm, and paralysis. But… but if I’m dying anyway… and you’ll really take a piece of trash like me… maybe I can be useful?  I mean, either I’ll die here… or pretty soon after the game ends. I’d rather earn some money for charity along the way. I asked if half my winnings or consolation money goes to a leukemia charity. Oh! The audience gets to see these, too, if we’re picked, don’t they? Can I let the audience vote which charity it goes to? I’d like that.”

After a lengthy pause, the cameraman spoke. “What would you want as your talent, Ouma-kun?”

“Oh, my ultimate talent? I… I want something that will make people hate me. Nobody remembers the nice ones. I want- if it’s possible- I want to be someone evil. Not creepy or gross, but like… the kind of comic book evil people love to hate. Then people might keep saying my name after I’m dead, that my life had some meaning beyond being strapped to a hospital bed under twenty-four-hour watch. So yeah… if you could make me smart and a villain… I’d love that. I don’t think I could ever hurt a fly on my own.”

Kokichi sighed, and looked down at his feet.

Another moment of silence, and a yell of “Cuuuuut!”

Kokichi remained on the stool, as he heard some of the adults talking, letting his right arm fall to his side.

‘ **_That… you weren’t acting. I felt everything tense. Ko I-_ ** ’

‘ **_No, no, you know me. I’m a great actor!_ ** ’

‘ **_Yes, you’re a great actor. The best. You could sell water to an ocean. Silly me._ ** ’

“Ouma-kun?” The cameraman snapped him back up to reality, and Kokichi quickly wiped the tears out of his eyes that he didn’t realize had formed. “You okay?”

“Totes okay!” Kokichi chirped back, immediately snapping to a happy persona.

“Holy… oh, wow. You had everyone believing your sob story. That was incredible.”

“I’m a supervillain, you expect less?” Kokichi replied smugly, swallowing his real emotions. A wave of happiness washed over him, making the transition easier, as he realized Daisuke was thinking happy thoughts to pull him out of his own funk. Another use for his host, he considered, already feeling a little better.

“Usually it takes a few takes to get what we’re looking for, but… I think you’re good. Take your other clothes with you- but don’t change- and head out to the next station. It’s in the hallway on this floor, marked 7.”

“So, it’s a big loop of stations like this?”

“Basically.”

“Can I take stuff from the bar fridge on the way out?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Kokichi folded his killing game clothes into a bag and slung it over his shoulder, swiping a fresh bottle of apple cider from the fridge.

‘ **_Can you grab the grape soda pleeeeeeeeeasssseee_ ** ?’ Daisuke whined. ‘ **_It’s our last night._ ** ’

Kokichi rolled his eyes and stuck his right arm in the fridge, letting Daisuke take it.

* * *

“You have sixty seconds to pass on any information to yourself in the killing game.”

“Can I think for a moment?” Kokichi asked, leaning over the table, back in his straightjacket killing-game costume at station #10. Station 8 had been the funniest one so far- he was in the plain ‘normal’ school outfit still, in front of a green screen, with a piece of a black car in view. Two giant guys in black suits and sunglasses yanked him into it, and they took photos and videos of Kokichi getting tied up and carted off.

**_‘Well it wasn’t Shu, but did that do it for you, Dai_ ** ?’ he’d asked as he’d been directed from the 8 th station to the 9 th, , for a series of mugshots and general headshots. His podium portrait if he… didn’t make it through a trial, he assumed. Daisuke’s literally pressing reply brought him back to the present.

‘ **_Shut. Up_ ** .’

Kokichi grinned.

But, back to the task at hand. Clearly whatever this thing was, it was for the killing game, and not a promotional piece like the audition video or some of the photographs he’d done. But was it a reward item… or a motive?

“Is this going to be used as a potential reward or a motive?” Kokichi figured the worst-case answer was none at all.

“I actually don’t know,” the woman replied. “I’m just part of the film crew, and nobody’s asked yet.”

“Not even the blue haired boy with the pinstripe uniform?” Kokichi asked.

“I haven’t seen anyone like that yet, I’m guessing he’s a lateral thinker like you?”

“Very.”

“Hold on, I’ll call HQ. Though I can’t guarantee I’ll get an answer. This stuff is always organized chaos.”

The staff member, in her tell-tale black fleece zip-up, stepped away to make her call, while Kokichi stretched out in his chair.

“Sorry. I’m not allowed to say,” she said, sitting back down across from him. “Just that you have sixty seconds to tell your future self anything you want.”

“I think I have something.”

“Okay, I’ll time you from when you say your first word.”

“Hey, me! Hopefully this is a reward, not another motive. Hey, hey, so, uhhhh, if someone’s already dead, do the right thing and light some incense for them, would you? You’re a dick, not a complete monster, y’know? Oh, and go make everyone some coffee. I know you hate it, but a good cuppa is just what people need after a stressful situation right? Or maybe some tea. Um, yeah. All I got. Good luck, loser!”

“That was only forty-five seconds, you sure about that? That didn’t even sound… helpful.”

“Ever heard of ‘anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law’? I’d rather err on the side of not giving myself a reason to want to kill. It looks bad on my college applications.”

She rolled her eyes and Kokichi beamed. “And if it’s a reward?”

“Then I get to see my own friendly face! Isn’t that the best kind of reward, a little pat on the back and nobody’s trying to backstab you while they’re at it!” Kokichi replied brightly, grinning.

“I- well, if that’s what you want, so be it. Station 11 is in the first floor by the main doors, but you’re running through these so quickly, I’m going to hold you here until I have an all clear.”

“How long?”

“You’re at least fifteen minutes ahead of schedule.”

“I’ve got some playing cards, want to kill… time?”

* * *

“Okay, this is station 16, the last one for the day. Which means tomorrow you have 17-20, and 1-6. We’re taking some shots for the opening credits.”

“Cool poses, finger pointing, that sort of thing?”

“Basically.”

“Is your camera waterproofed?”

“It… can be, why? Oh, you’re the one with squirt guns,” one of the staff members said, looking down his sheet. “Give my team a few. Do you need to grab anything from your room?”

“Actually, yeah, give me ten?” Kokichi dropped his bag, now containing the yet-unopened soda and his ‘normal’ clothes.

‘ **_Hey, now the soda’s going to fizz everywhere when you open it_ ** ,’ Daisuke commented, as Kokichi sprinted back to the dorms.

‘ **_That’s exactly the point_ ** .’

* * *

Kokichi returned, his cloak and cap in hand and a roll of Mentos from the school store.

“Sorry for the wait,” he commented, sheepishly, working with Daisuke to throw on his cloak and snap it closed, adjusted his hat… and took out the bottle of grape soda, shaking it vigorously in his hand, before passing it off to Daisuke.

“Fire in the hole!” he shouted, as the staff at the credits station laughed, one of them pulling out a plastic poncho from who-knows-where. Daisuke gripped the bottle, as Kokichi palmed a mint, twisted open the cap, and dropped it in, changing the stream of agitated soda into a maelstrom of purple, grinning like a madman.

* * *

‘ **_My… soda_ ** ,’ Daisuke tapped, as they flopped on the bed after dinner.

‘ **_I’m changing into something less sticky_ ** ,’ Kokichi replied, ignoring Daisuke.

‘ **_Photos were cool, though. That was awesome_ ** . **_Did you see the post-processing stuff they did? I heard one of them muttering they’ll probably use that for the billboards._ ** ’

Kokichi smiled. ‘ **_We did look badass, didn’t we_ ** ?’

‘ **_Purple looks good on us_ ** .’

‘ **_Not when it’s staining my jacket it’s not_ ** .’

* * *

One shower, fresh change of clothes, and a jolt of pain to the hand later (courtesy of compulsively needing to re-powder, and the trick drawer needed to do so), and Kokichi was ready for the cooler night air. He stepped back in his room for a moment, grabbing his cloak. Surprisingly, it didn’t smell like stale minty grape soda, just fabric softener. Someone must have come in while he was showering and replaced it. Useful… but slightly unnerving, especially since he’d locked his door.

He clipped it shut around his neck and bunched up around himself, making sure it didn’t trail behind him and trip him.

Better. And warmer.

Kokichi hurried to the school, only to find the main doors locked- and no visible keyhole to exploit. Next, he tried the patio doors. Bingo. He could go through the cafeteria. Kaito and Ryoma were sitting at the long table inside, a pot of coffee between them. Kokichi nearly gagged.

‘ **_They can’t change smells attached to memories_ ** ,’ Daisuke supplied. ‘ **_Sorry I hate that smell_ ** .’

‘ **_Why do you think I did what I did for our ‘future self’ video_ ** ?’

“Earth to Supreme Overlord?” Kaito yelled. “It’s  **_my_ ** job to stare off into space.”

“Sorry. I just wanted to grab something from the school store.” Kokichi needed to be more aware when he stopped to ‘talk’ to his partner.

“They put some candy and soda in the pantry,” Ryoma replied, sipping his coffee. “Cafeteria is barred from here into the school. I think they wanted to keep us from tampering with the camera equipment they left behind for tomorrow.”

“By ‘us’ you mean ‘me’,” Kokichi replied.

“And Miu-chan, too, likely. She’s been tearing through anything electronic she can find,” Ryoma added.

“Whatever, I’ll go mess with K1-b0 then.”

“If you can tear her away from dry-hu-” Kaito started, grinning, before Ryoma cut him off.

“Kaito-kun, don’t be a dick.”

“Well, they closed the school but the damn Love Hotel’s still open if you’ve got a key from the casino.” Kaito sighed, and chugged the last of his coffee.

“Oh, and how do you even know about this? Did you try and win one?” Kokichi asked with a sneer.

“Noooo…”

“Lying’s  **_my_ ** job. That sounded like a ‘yes’ to me. Just… don’t pick up a gambling habit while you’re here, yeah? Gambling’s baaaaaaaad for yooooou.”

Kaito ducked his head into his unused jacket sleeve, a flash of his space-themed lining visible for a moment.

“I didn’t come here for a sausage fest. I’m gone,” Kokichi whined, making a big show of throwing up his arms in frustration, before ducking in the kitchen for snacks, juiceboxes… and a replacement bottle of  **_disgusting_ ** grape soda for his host.

* * *

Kokichi dumped his haul on his desk, and decided to go out for a light jog before turning in, a little sour that he couldn’t go back in the tunnels to explore around some more.  **_That_ ** was probably the real reason the school was closed, he mused. The other lift, the one to go to the trial grounds, could only be opened by Team Danganronpa for trials, so that wasn’t an option either, unless he could figure out a way to hack it.

He spotted Tenko, Tsumugi, and Himiko laughing as a trio, heading to the area with the casino and hotel. He assumed they were going to use the former, but hey, if they had a key to the hotel, who was he to judge? Shuichi and Kaede were laying on their backs on the courtyard grass, looking at the stars, Kaede very clearly trying to snuggle Shuichi, and Shuichi not unhappy with the pianist so close, but not completely sold on the situation either.

Gonta had his net out, and was cautiously looking for any insects he could find, Korekiyo was under the gazebo doing shodo calligraphy, Kirumi sitting nearby doing needlepoint in silence, with Rantaro reading a book by flashlight and Angie sketching absentmindedly.

Maki was nowhere to be found, and Miu and K1-b0 were either in her lab, one of their rooms… or in the hotel together.

If they weren’t in her lab, Kokichi promised he’d call it a night.

* * *

With her lab’s burned-out windows and the door closed, Kokichi had no idea if anyone was inside, or if the lights were on. Cautiously, he knocked first.

No answer. Kokichi slowly opened the door.

And found Miu sound asleep, drooling on top of a mildly panicking K1-b0.

“…help?”

At least this time, he wasn’t on the floor with a hunk of ceramic tile lodged in his leg.

* * *

“Well, that was a fun way to spend my last night. Hauling a sleeping whore to her bedroom with you in front of everyone.”

“Do not refer to Miu-chan as a whore,” K1-b0 said, sternly.

“Sorry, force of habit. It’s been my nickname for her to her face.”

The lights in K1-b0’s eyes turned dim for a moment, as he sighed. “If she is okay with it, that’s one thing. Please don’t refer to her that way in front of me, though. I… it just bothers me.”

“Sure, Keeboy.”

K1-b0 laughed.

“Hey, you’ve got drool all over you. Do you have a clean jumpsuit? I could help you change. I don’t think you want to be covered in that.”

“I… I would appreciate that, actually. And then I need to charge.”

* * *

Kokichi woke with a start, and clear vision. Shit. He didn’t take out his contacts. Again. That wasn’t good in the long term, was it?

And… why was K1-b0 sitting in…

Oh.

**_Oh._ **

He’d fallen asleep in K1-b0’s dorm. At least he’d kicked his shoes off before he’d crashed.

“Morning?” K1-b0 asked, his eyes pure white.

“Ughhhhh, I guess so,” Kokichi whined.

“I am sorry, but you did help me change and get in my dock last night. You passed out on the bed soon after. I couldn’t get up to move you.”

“Why does your room even have a bed?”

“Better question is why it has a  **_toilet_ ** ,” K1-b0 said with a laugh.

“Need me to get you out?” Kokichi asked, looking at K1-b0 clamped in his charger.

“Oh, no, it only needs another thirty for a full charge, and given today’s event’s I’d like to top off completely. It’s only 6:25 AM. You probably want to go back to your own bunk to sleep, no?”

“I’m an early riser, there’s no way I’m falling back asleep now.”

“Do you want to stay, then? I don’t have anything to entertain you in here though. They confiscated Dai- my,  **_my_ ** reading tablet when we moved into the dome, and I own no personal possessions other than some clothes, also back on the other side.”

“Hey… when you’re done, maybe we can go bake?”

“Do you know how? I can show you some basic techniques,” K1-b0 replied, sounding a little happier. He’d been Miu’s plaything the past few days, it must have been nice being asked to do his own favorite activity.

“I… I have no idea,” Kokichi replied.

‘ **_I do_ ** ,’ Daisuke cut in.

‘ **_Don’t rub it in. They took that out on purpose, they must have_ ** .’

K1-b0 laughed. “Something basic then. I’m sure everyone will appreciate some freshly made muffins.” Tapping on his dock’s armrest, he added, ‘ **_My pumpkin recipe is Keisuke’s favorite_ ** .’

* * *

Kokichi went back to his own room to clean himself up, before returning to K1-b0’s, knocking quietly first.

“Let yourself in. I need five more minutes.”

Kokichi did so, again less his cape, which actually must have made a pretty good blanket the night before, as he’d fallen asleep  **_on_ ** K1-b0’s bed instead of  **_in_ ** it.

Kokichi slipped off his shoes at K1-b0’s bed, sitting on the edge, hugging his knees to his chest, watching the robot. If he could listen carefully, he could hear the bot’s faint fake heartbeat.

“Why a heartbeat?” Kokichi asked.

“It seems to calm people down. It was Toshiro-kun’s idea. He added it the last time he upgraded my voice. I will admit, the first voice they gave me wasn’t one I liked very much.”

“Why not?” Kokichi asked, leaning his head into his knees, curled up small. Now that Kokichi was cloak-less, he noticed that K1-b0 seemed to keep his room very cold.

“You are shivering,” K1-b0 articulated, changing the subject.

“No, I’m not.”

“My eyes are my cameras, not the lit up half-circles you see. I am fully capable of noticing you are shivering even with my pupils and irises turned off.”

Kokichi frowned, and was thankfully cut off from making a snide remark by the sound of the dock’s contact pins disengaging, and the clamps releasing. “Ah, freedom.” K1-b0’s eyes slowly readjusted, the bright blue irises slowly drawing themselves in, then his pupils.

“That will never not be creepy.”

“Nor will you, but I will not ask you to change. On your stomach.”

“What, wh-” Kokichi started, before he was gently pushed on the bed.

“Because after today I will probably be avoiding you, and your shoulder isn’t sitting correctly in its socket.”

“We were going to do something  **_you_ ** wanted for a change!” Kokichi protested.

“And  **_I_ ** won’t be happy if you go into  **_this_ ** with a dislocated shoulder from carrying Miu-chan last night. You’re not strong.” K1-b0 frowned. “Physically, I mean. Now stay still, this will take only a moment if you don’t move.” K1-b0 put his knee on the small of Kokichi’s backside, and a hand on his shoulder and another at his elbow. “Breathe in and…”

K1-b0 pulled up sharply, then released, running his thumb over Kokichi’s shoulder to check his work.

“ **_Now_ ** we can go work on breakfast,” K1-b0 said, satisfied. “And drink some water. You’re mildly dehydrated.”

“Goddamn nurse,” Kokichi mumbled into the mattress. “Th… thank you.”

* * *

“You have to be shitting me.”

About half the robotics lab was dressed in white.

“How are you supposed to have a ‘family and friends’ motive video without your family?” Toshiro asked, pulling one of the clown masks off the wall in Kokichi’s lair.

“You don’t look anything like my subordinates, you could have called in my actual team,” Kokichi commented, lying through his teeth. With “him” masked and Momo fully visible in the shot he’d had back in his bunk, he assumed that it was taken by the staff and survivors of season 51. One of them even had hair poking out that looked suspiciously like Rantaro’s…

“Oh, you don’t think we did? Most of them were too scared to come. Buuuuut…”

Kokichi turned around, hearing the sound of an electronic wheelchair.

“And these two make ten,” Tohru said with a smile. “Everyone but Kokichi-kun, grab a mask?”

“Holy shit…” Kokichi was stunned silent. Momo and Mamoru came forward, both in matching straight-jacket uniforms, smiling.

“Hello, Boss,” Momo said, an evil little grin on her face. “Mischief managed?”

Kokichi laughed. “ **_Goddamnit_ ** . Mischief managed.”

* * *

Lunch was a lot livelier than the bleary breakfast they had before the last of their promotional work, what with about thirty additional people needing food. Additional chairs and tables were set along the walk to the patio for everyone. It seemed like everyone had gotten their friends and family motive videos done that day, and, if the way Kokichi’s memories existed extended to all of them, all these people were actual friends or family members of the soon-to be participants of the game. Kaito was dragging around his ‘grandparents’- who, based on the similarities to what Daisuke remembered of Ichiro, Daisuke assumed they probably  **_were_ ** his grandparents.

Himiko had an older gentleman dressed in stage magician’s costume, maybe an uncle? Tenko also had an older gentleman, hers in a gi, arms crossed and smiling. Kokichi saw… he was crying, but not upset. He probably hadn’t heard the girl underneath the bratty martial artist speak in a very long time. Angie had a darker skinned woman in Polynesian dress and headdress, who Kokichi pegged as definitely her mother. K1-b0 was happily chatting with Professor Iidabashi, and Maki had two young children with her. Rei did say she did actually help at her orphanage.

Rantaro and Ryoma had no-one, but Arukawa sat with them, keeping them from getting upset over their own situation.

Oddly, Ai’s older brother was here for Kokichi’s own backstory, not Shuichi’s. So, who was the gentleman in a suit and fedora? He looked younger- maybe late thirties. Ai didn’t have a father though, and even if she did, he wouldn’t be so young as the man with Shuichi. Was he supposed to be his detective uncle? Who was he, really?

“Permission to speak, boss?” Momo asked. She seemed like she was taking to her character a little  **_too_ ** well, but she’d been in Daisuke’s shoes before.

“You and Mamoru-chan have permission to speak without requesting for the rest of the day,” Kokichi replied, rolling his eyes. “I don’t have time for you to keep asking.”

“Thanks, boss,” she replied. “Mind introducing me to the gentleman in the hat?”

“Who? The one in the suit?”

“No, the one with dark navy hair.”

“Don’t touch him with a ten-foot pole, he’s a detective,” Kokichi warned.

“Crap, the fuzz? Really? Mamoru-chan just recognized the hat. It’s from his high school.”

“Right, that detective is also from Kobe. His name is Saihara Shuichi. Classmate of yours, Mamoru-chan?”

Mamoru’s face scrunched up a little. Kokichi felt a little bad for him, seeing his little sister like that. It probably wasn’t what he was expecting.

“Yeah, so I don’t think he’s going to do anything to us.”

Kokichi sighed dramatically. “Fiiiiiiine, but if you two go in the slammer because of this, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Kokichi raised his voice. “Oi! Pretty boy! Butt. Here. Now!”

Shuichi turned his head towards Kokichi, alarmed, before seeing the trio in white straight-jackets. Nervously, he adjusted his hat, and walked over.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Momo muttered.

“Do I… oh.” Shuichi’s voice went flat, and he squatted to meet Mamoru in the eye. “Up to no good again, I see. Well, I haven’t actually caught you in the act, so…”

“Shuichi-kun, you know my subordinates, right?”

Shuichi sighed, exasperated. “They’re amazing people, why they’re working for you in your little hit brigade is beyond me.”

“DICE is not little!” Kokichi whined.

“No, but their leader is,” Shuichi said quietly.

“You’re a detective?” Mamoru finally asked, nervous, looking his sister in the eye, best he could.

“One who has nothing conclusive on you, unfortunately,” Shuichi said, shaking his head. “So that would make me not a particularly good one.”

“Um, m-m-mister Shuichi-kun, sir?”

“Mamoru-kun right? You’re the one who’s a camera expert?”

Mamoru sniffled a little, holding back tears. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“What did you want to ask me, Mamoru-kun?”

“C- can I wish you good luck?”

“Uh, sure, but don’t you want to wish that to your own boss?”

“He’s either going to kick ass or die trying,” Mamoru said candidly. Kokichi smirked, he wouldn’t admit aloud that both sounded amazing and hurt a little. “You’ve been in my school as long as I can remember. I want to wish  **_you_ ** luck.”

“Th-thank you. It’s a…” Shuichi started, before kneeling again to be eye level to Mamoru in his chair. “It's a bit weird to be cheered on by my… well, not enemy?”

“Badass antagonist?” Kokichi supplied, puffing his chest out.

Shuichi just shook his head, leaned forward, and gave Mamoru a hug, which to the best of his strength, Mamoru returned. After a few moments, Shuichi let go, tears forming. “I… I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that. That was uncalled for.”

“No, I was… going to ask, actually. You just read my mind. Good luck, Shuichi-kun.” Mamoru’s lip quivered a little.

“Yo, Shuichi-kun! Come here and meet my grandparents!” Kaito boomed, dissipating the tension.

“I should go,” Shuichi said, nervously, adjusting his hat.

Shuichi gone, Mamoru looked up to Momo. “I want to go say hi to Ai… ai…  **_my_ ** homeroom teacher. Wasn’t expecting to see him here.” So  **_that’s_ ** who Shuichi’s ‘uncle’ was.

“Just let me know if you need anything, Mamoru-chan,” Momo replied. “I’m going back to the buffet.”

“Your boss wants another pumpkin muffin,” Kokichi said with a grin, holding out his plate.

Momo rolled her eyes, snatching it from him. “You keep eating all these baked goods and you’re going to regret it someday, Boss.”

“But they were precisely measured by a machine!”

“Processed baked goods are even worse!”

“No, I mean, a  **_machine_ ** ,” Kokichi replied, pointing at K1-b0. “He could give you a run for your money in the baking department.”

“He’s an actual robot?”

“Yep.”

“No really.”

“I have personally opened him up and helped put sensors in his crotch.”

“He’s a robot and you gave him a-”

“ **_Balance_ ** sensors.”

“Oh.”

“Which I named his ‘dick sensor’ in his subroutine.”

Momo took a sharp breath and sighed. “Of  **_course_ ** you did, boss.”

Kokichi watched Momo storm straight over to Arukawa- and flail an arm directly pointing at K1-b0.

Arukawa smiled, said something out of earshot.

Momo dropped her stack of plates in shock, shattering them, and stood dumbfounded, gawking at the really, truly, actual self-aware android.

“See, when the truth’s the stranger thing, there’s no need to lie,” Kokichi said aloud to no-one, and went to grab another muffin himself, laughing all the way to the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY MORE NOTES
> 
> Next weekend I'm flying out to Anaheim for PSX. I'm one of the administrators for Podcast Beyond, so come say hi if you're in the area. We're doing a meet and greet for the fans at Round 1 on Friday night (the 8th)
> 
> No, I don't overstretch myself what gave you all that idea.


	25. The Mourning After

“Ahem.” K1-b0 looked embarrassed, as he didn’t realize just how loud his voice could get. By his surprised expression, Kokichi surmised that must have been what Toshiro had been tinkering with the day before. “Sorry,” K1-b0 added sheepishly, but still at volume. “I just wanted to let everyone know that they will be clearing away lunch, so please take anything you’d still like. The only thing left is that all participants must come to the gym no later than five PM... did I miss anything professor?”

Arukawa spoke to K1-b0, but it was too far away for Kokichi to hear. Thankfully, K1-b0 repeated it. “You have the remaining three hours to do as you please. The whole school is open, minus the pool, the hangar, and my and Tenko-chan’s labs. Thank you and good luck.”

Silence.

And then panic. No, not general panic.

Kokichi realized he’d never passed on his deductions to Daisuke. He’d passed out in K1-b0’s room the night before.

‘ **_F U C K_ ** ,’ he tapped.

**_‘I know. Kii is going to get taken away now_ ** .’

‘ **_That’s not the problem_ ** .’

Kokichi hurt his leg pressing so hard.

Momo came back.

“Something wrong with your leg, Boss?”

“No, just… just nervous.” He took in a deep breath, trying to compose himself. Again, Daisuke must have thought of something that made him elated, helping Kokichi regain his composure. “They’re going to take K1-b0 away now. I… I want to go with him.”

“What a coincidence, Boss. Mamoru wanted to see some of the electronics, anyway.”

“Really, now?” Kokichi asked, narrowing his eyes.

That was another thing he’d noticed, after Daisuke filled him in on who Mamoru actually was during lunch.  **_There weren’t any rolling overhead tracks installed in the school ceilings for a camera_ ** . That, and Mamoru had been told he needed to submit orders on where the camera should go, he wasn’t going to directly control one, which was odd. And... would he be hospitalized  **_here_ ** ? The outside facility certainly had all the tools of a small but modern hospital, and a dedicated medical staff, K1-b0 notwithstanding.

Did Mamoru… have some control over Monokuma itself? Mamoru wasn’t a good enough actor to actually play the voice of the animatronic, voice changer aside. The kid was just too…  **_nice_ ** , too emotional. And they wouldn’t waste their star villain on some random kid with no acting experience and bouts of long rest.

There were always the mechanized digger machines, or maybe some other animatronics?

‘ **_Are you thinking about what camera Mamoru has control over_ ** ?’

‘ **_How... do you_ ** ?’

‘ **_Our brow is furrowed, we’re sweating like a pig, you were biting my left-hand nails. Which you need to stop doing, please, before they start bleeding. And I feel confused through you. Either that or you’re trying to figure out how to pass on what you wanted efficiently. I know you can’t multitask talking to others and me at the same time. Too much mental energy. What about when I talk to you_ ** ?’

‘ **_Not nearly as bad. I can parse your tapping and do something else. I just_ ** ’

“Boss?” Momo snapped in front of his face. “Do you need to sit?”

Kokichi just gulped, and Daisuke pinched his thigh.

Momo looked genuinely worried. “Kokichi-kun?’

“I... I’m fine. Worried.”

“That’s not like you.”

Kokichi dropped his voice to a whisper. “ **_Joining a killing game isn’t like me_ ** . Our credo? Have fun and  **_do no harm_ ** . I’m just...”

“Permission to-”

“ **_No_ ** !” Kokichi snapped. The party quieted, and many sets of eyes turned to Kokichi. Arukawa rushed over.

“Kokichi-kun, do you need to talk with someone?”

Yes. To Daisuke. In private, he thought.

Kokichi took a sharp inhale.

“I want to go back to the outside facility,” Kokichi started, breathed out, and clarified before Arukawa could get a word in. “Or wherever they’re taking K1-b0 so I can say goodbye.”

A look of understanding washed on her face as her shoulders relaxed.

“If you want that, Professor Iidabashi was just going to bring him down now. Is that’s what’s upsetting you?”

Shit. He couldn’t lie to her. Not without her knowing.

“It’s one of the things that is.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Kokichi-kun. What else is the matter?” God. She’s so honestly genuine it makes Kokichi’s stomach churn. There has to be something terrible at the bottom of her soul, something nasty and dark. No-one could live through overseeing this many games and not be like that. Maybe a sadist?

Kokichi swallowed thinking of something else that genuinely bugged him without giving up the real reason.

‘ **_M o m o_ ** ,’ Daisuke supplied.

Kokichi sighed, lowering his voice. “I don’t like playing pretend for what I can assume are Daisuke’s friends.”

Arukawa closed her eyes and laughed quietly. “Right. This must be a little insulting.”

Momo looked between them before articulating a flat “What”.

“Let’s take a walk, shall we? K1-b0 is the only participant aware of this, and outside of us, only one other staff member is aware. Let’s just say, Kokichi-kun here is... a special case.”

* * *

Momo, Kokichi, and Mamoru were sent down the elevator in the school store first, and Kokichi dutifully waited with them below the set while Arukawa, K1-b0 and Iidabashi took it next.

“There’s probably one of these hidden in my lab, too, since it’s the closest thing underground, other than the courtroom,” Kokichi said aloud, trying to ignore the two pairs of eyes.

Finally, Momo broke the silence, just as the elevator dinged, letting out the other three.

“When Arukawa-sensei said you were special...?” Momo started.

“I’m  **_self aware_ ** . I mean, I know I’m a scripted character. I also have some general idea of who my host is, but it’s not like we share thoughts or anything- I can’t think at him like all those anime where two people share a body,” he said with a smile, peeking down at his right hand. “And while I could probably figure out Daisuke’s own memories if I really  **_really_ ** strained myself, what’s the point? They won’t be useful in a killing game.”

“So you know you’re not an Ultimate?” Mamoru asked, confused.

“Well,  **_I_ ** am. My skills are real and my personality is mine. I’m not my host. I just know my memories from before here aren’t... real. I’m guessing you got told what role you were given in my history. You don’t need to fake being my subordinate in front of me. I know you’re not. I’ve never met you. Daisuke has.”

“Oh. Right. It’s like me and Yurie-chan, then. Sorta.”

“And..” Kokichi closed his eyes for dramatic effect, pretending to concentrate. “Mamoru-chan is... Shuichi-kun’s older brother, right?”

“Close,” Mamoru replied. Kokichi knew exactly what he really wanted to say, but chose not to correct.

“Kokichi-kun, thank you for coming to see me off, though,” K1-b0 added sheepishly. “I will be honest I wanted to slip out as quietly as possible.”

“Thanks for letting me anyway. That little goodbye party was starting to grind my gears. You’re here for Daisuke and Shuichi-kun. Nobody can be here for me, since I’m only two weeks old. Anyone who actually knows  **_me_ ** is already here.”

Momo’s face fell.

“Don’t take it the wrong way. I’m sure Daisuke appreciates it, buried somewhere under my psyche. But seriously. Go spend your last few hours with someone who actually might care.”

“Are you sure?’ Mamoru asked. “They’re going to burn away your last two weeks later.”

Momo cut him off. “Mamoru-chan, let’s give him some space. He’s right. We’re Daisuke-kun’s friends, not his. I think he really just wants to say goodbye to his friend on his terms. I’m sure Shuichi and… and his uncle will let us join them. Good luck, Kokichi-kun. Bring yourself home to us.”

“You mean bring  **_Daisuke_ ** back to you,” Kokichi corrected, sharply.

Momo sighed. “Both of you. I may be Daisuke-kun’s friend, but if he’s accepted you in, I do too.”

Kokichi made a motion, one of Daisuke’s, attempting to push glasses that no longer existed up on his nose, sighing, as he realized it was one of Daisuke’s own nervous tics embedded in him.

“I’ll take a hug goodbye, for Daisuke,” he croaked out, realizing, statistically speaking, this might be the last time they saw each other.

Momo nodded slightly. “Not goodbye.  **_See you later._ ** I made a bet with him, you know, that he’d come back alive.”

“I don’t fancy games of chance, unless I stack the deck,” Kokichi replied, getting awkwardly hugged by Momo in front of the two professors, K1-b0, and his host’s g-g-good friend’s older brother.

“Then stack it,” she replied. “I saw your character sheet. You’re a smart one. I was in your shoes about a year ago.”

Kokichi just nodded.

“See you around, Boss,” Momo added with a wry smile when she let go. “Come on, Mamoru-chan, I know when I’m not wanted.”

Momo grabbed the handlebars of Mamoru’s wheelchair and turned around to the elevator.

She didn’t look back.

* * *

It was just the four of them now, Kokichi hanging back ever so slightly, both trying to keep an eye on K1-b0, and try to start to relay scraps of information to his mule- to his host- to Daisuke.

K1-b0 looked back. Kokichi knew trying to hide his tapping as he walked wasn’t going to be lost on the bot. K1-b0 stopped walking, and both professors turned around.

“K1-b0?” Iidabashi asked, the very first time Kokichi or Daisuke had actually heard his voice. It was strained, mechanical. If Kokichi strained himself, he could see a machine strapped on Iidabashi’s neck. The man was human, but maybe his vocal chords were damaged? He seemed to have some of the telltale signs of being a former chain smoker, from the yellowed nails and discolored skin, though none of the smell. Something had gotten him to quit years ago, but the scars had been left behind.

“Yes, Professor?” K1-b0 asked. The word held the weight of ‘dad’.

“Are you okay?” Iidabashi asked. His mouth didn’t move.

‘ **_I think he had lung cancer_ ** ,’ Daisuke supplied.

‘ **_Trachea_ ** ,’ Kokichi replied.

“Not… particularly. I’m not worried for my own safety, since you’re backing me up, but…”

“You worry for the others. I never put worry in your software. The concern is yours and yours alone. Don’t forget it.”

“I won’t, Professor.”

“Hiroko and I will walk on ahead,” Iidabashi said with a small nod. “Walk with your friend. You know where to go. Please just try to meet us within an hour.”

Hiroko. So that was Arukawa’s first name. It sounded so… boring.

“Thank you, Professor.” K1-b0 couldn’t look his creator in the eye. Or was he? His eyes were really on the outer and inner corners of his face. It was hard to tell where he was actually looking.

With a click of heels and a shuffle of thoroughly worn-through loafers, the two were gone.

* * *

“Kokichi-kun. You are  **_not_ ** okay.” K1-b0 stated, as soon as he knew he was out of earshot of the pair.

In front of the only person in the world who knew the truth about his existence- the whole truth- Kokichi finally began to shake and fall. Without thought, K1-b0 supported his friend, and gently lowered both of them to the concrete floor of the service tunnels, leaning against one of the steel rebar beams.

“Sh-sh-shhhhhh,” K1-b0 shushed, curling the boy in his arms. “You are safe here. There’s no transmitter equipment, and I hear nobody.”

“I’m… K1-b0, I’m scared. I don’t have a computer backup if I’m sliced or diced or thrown in an incinerator. And Daisuke’s scared too. That stupid party… it’s like they were dangling what we left behind right in front of us! Why would they  **_do_ ** that?”

“Probably for this,” K1-b0, replied, running a hand on Kokichi’s back. “I don’t think you’ve noticed, but your costume has medical monitoring equipment sewn in. Thread circuits. Your pulse, your breath, your vitals. I would be unsurprised if they were checking stress. I noticed it when Miu-chan… decided to have her bosom have intimate relations with my head. So, my prior statement is not quite true that there is no transmitter equipment. It just is either not able to transmit sound or video, or it isn’t currently turned on.”

“Not turned on?”

“Miu’s costume had a microphone, probably for the game. I wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t… in my face. It wasn’t turned on, and if yours has one too, it’s not currently transmitting. Even if it were RFI shielded, it still has to transmit that signal outbound- I would know. May I… erm, get a little more intimate with the parts of the costume near your neck?

“ **_Phrasing_ ** ,” Kokichi replied, the innuendo getting a small giggle from the boy. “Go ahead.”

Kokichi arched his head upwards, and let his friend search- only a moment needed before K1-b0 grinned mischievously.

“Found it. It’s in your neckerchief, right here,” K1-b0 said, touching the spot with one hand, and taking Kokichi’s wrist, the one that ended in Daisuke’s hand, guiding his arm to the spot, with the other. Daisuke curled his fingers, felt a small pucker, and a tiny disc sewn in the kerchief the boys hadn’t noticed before.

“Tricky, tricky,” Kokichi said. “You can’t turn it on, can you?”

“I’d need to know what frequency it actually runs on, for one. That would take too long. It’s likely a very narrow band if everyone is covered in medical instrumentation so the signals don’t overlap. I feel a hum here,” he added, loosening his grip on Kokichi’s right wrist, and twisting it up. “The button of your cufflink is a pulse monitor.”

“So, I’m all decked out like your dad, then.”

“Professor Iidabashi is not my father.”

“Could have fooled me,” Kokichi replied. Somehow, knowing he was walking with a hospital’s worth of eyes on him made him feel a bit more at ease.

A show like this wouldn’t waste that kind of effort just to make their subjects actually die… could they?

“So, Kokichi-kun, you seemed awfully nervous,” K1-b0 said, a small grin on his face as he shifted Kokichi into a more comfortable position on his lap. “You were going to give yourself a bruise, tapping yourself like that, and look at your fingernails! If Arukawa sees you’ve been biting, she’ll send you for a manicure.”

Oh noooo,” Kokichi mock whined. “More servants to wait on me hand and foot.”

“I mean, that nail polish that tastes extremely bitter.”

“I shouldn’t be biting Daisuke’s nails down to the quick,” Kokichi replied, sheepishly.

“No, you shouldn’t. And you shouldn’t be bottling up whatever’s bothering you. It only should take five minutes to walk back over to the robotics lab. I want you to talk out everything on your mind. It’ll stop you from biting your nails… or jabbing yourself in the thigh. It’s probably a  **_faster_ ** way to get off what’s on your mind too, isn’t it?”

K1-b0.

That  **_bastard_ ** .

K1-b0 grabbed each of Kokichi’s wrists, placing his own palms over Kokichi’s and Daisuke’s hands.

“No nail biting, no fidgeting. Just talk.”

Kokichi took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.

“Okay, so, first off, the tunnel layout had me really curious. Based on distances and depth, I’m pretty sure the trial- and thus the execution grounds- are right under the research facility, so that means…”

* * *

“We should go,” K1-b0 said, cutting off Kokichi mid-thought, about forty-five minutes later. “I don’t want to delay the inevitable any more. Do you feel better?”

“Yeah. I wanted to talk that out before I forgot it all. Thanks…  **_Keeboy_ ** .”

“If that sticks through your last wipe today, I’m going to short a circuit.”

Kokichi snorted. “Whatever you say,  **_minion_ ** .”

“I’m debating on whether that’s a step up or down.” K1-b0 smiled, shoving Kokichi off him and straightening himself. Extending a hand, Daisuke took it and K1-b0 pulled them up.

“Awwww but you’re so warm,” Kokichi whined, a little flushed.

“If we stayed much longer, you might have just fallen asleep.”

Kokichi sighed, stretched, and followed his friend down the concrete halls to his death.

* * *

K1-b0 opened the doors to his lab, the entire robots team- save Keisuke, for obvious reasons- present.

They were dressed like they were going to a funeral. Well, except Toshiro, who was still in his DICE costume from earlier.

“I don’t need any theatrics,” K1-b0 snapped. Kokichi was stunned. He’d never seen the robot angry before. “Just shut me off and do the job.”

One of the young women stepped forward, tears in her eyes. “Funerals aren’t for the deceased, K1-b0.”

K1-b0 froze.

“We love you, buddy,” Tohru interjected. “Good luck, and stay safe.”

“I wish… wish I could cry,” K1-b0 replied, the light completely gone from his eyes.

It was like a mad rush, as the college and grad students were upon him, hugging and crying in a giant huddle. K1-b0 in turn, made sure every one of his young creators got a tight, warm embrace.

“It’s not goodbye, it’s ‘I’ll see you later’,” he kept repeating, until he was convinced it was the truth.

For him, though, it basically was. Even if game K1-b0 died, this one would remember everything to his own funeral, wake, and probably go back to nursing the survivors, like the obedient child he was.

That didn’t make it hurt less.

Professors Arukawa and Iidabashi stepped forward. “We’ll take it from here, everyone. K1-b0, on your bench, please,” Iidabashi said. It was weird to consider the human’s voice was so mechanical, and his… creation’s, far far less so. “Kokichi-kun can stay. I want the rest of you out.”

The students nodded, a few said their final goodbyes, and they all shuffled out. Toshiro clapped Kokichi’s shoulder on the back. “Good luck to you too, Boss.”

Kokichi frowned. “Not funny.”

“Any idea how much shit you taught me since you came here? Your coding skills spit on mine.”

Kokichi relaxed his shoulders a little. “Fine. You’ve earned that right. Now scram, before the Million Dollar Man shoots rockets out of his hands.”

“K1-b0 wouldn’t hurt a fl- oh. Yeah, Iidabashi is a slave driver. I’ll see you ‘round. Be good.”

“No promises.”

Kokichi walked over to K1-b0 laying on his workbench, expression neutral, and reached out both his arms so he and Daisuke could both take K1-b0’s hand in their own.

K1-b0 nodded. “Kokichi-kun, stay safe, good luck and I’ll-”

Iidabashi released K1-b0’s shutoff button.

Kokichi fell to his knees, bawling.

* * *

Arukawa had to pry Kokichi off the floor.

“Up you go, you’ll see him again soon enough.”

Kokichi’s breath hitched. “No snide remarks about how crying’s not manly?”

“I’m a psychologist,” she said sharply. “Expressing your emotions in public takes a lot of bravery. Now you need to go clean yourself up. And change into your ‘normal’ costume. You can use the boy’s dorms, they’re closer than going back in the dome, I’ll have someone bring them to you.”

“My normal clothes?” Kokichi looked surprised.

“In your case, the black gakuran. What your character thinks they were kidnapped in. We have to do these larger wipes in stages, so that’ll be more familiar to you when you awaken between them.”

Kokichi nodded, wiping the snot off on his sleeve. Arukawa frowned. “I hope you don’t mind but I’m also going to have someone clean up your nails. They’re unbecoming of a supreme leader.”

Kokichi smirked. K1-b0 could read his mother like a book.

* * *

There were no decorations on the bunks. They’d all been taken off.

So much for short lived nostalgia.

Kokichi cleaned himself, changed, sat still as Toki came in with a small nail kit and cleaned up his cuticles, filed the ripped-up nails smooth until his anxiety wasn’t physically visible on them anymore, and painted something clear on top.

“T-t-try biting them now,” she said with a wicked smile. “I’m sure y-y-you won't be once you do.”

“What, you install a joy buzzer?” Kokichi joked back.

“Only you,” she said with a small sigh, before squeezing his hand.

* * *

Kokichi lifted his right arm to his face, and Daisuke stuck out his pinky.

His whole body shuddered.

“GODDAMN IT.”

He didn’t think a million memory lights would burn out the taste of that polish.

* * *

Everyone was in the gym, in their normal uniforms, save K1-b0. Iidabashi was probably tinkering around in his code.

Fifteen futon were laid out on the floor.

“No shields this time,” Arukawa said. “And please, pick a spot wherever you like. One of the things we’ve done for priming is getting everyone on a slightly different wavelength, quite literally. You’re all going to receive the same light, but each of you will only actually get information from your own portion.”

So that’s how they’d be able to control the participants (well, to a point, they gave memories, not orders)- K1-b0 would probably just get wireless updates when they got flashed. Kokichi slipped off his shoes, and flopped on a futon. Might as well just get it over with.

Miu picked one on one side of him, Shuichi the other, and Kaede quickly grabbed the free space next to Shuichi.

Tenko quietly took the free spot next to Miu, and the rest of the group filed into place.

And then Kokichi gasped, banging on the inside of a locker until its hinges gave way.

That wasn’t too weird, he thought. He was small, picked on a lot. Getting shoved in lockers wasn’t exactly a new occurrence.

The bars on the windows were, though. As was the fact that the locker he was in was in the front of the classroom, not the hallway.

Kokichi balled both hands into fists. This wasn’t his school. He blinked, thinking. A rush of fragments. He’d just been in class, as usual, went to the convenience store after art club let out to grab a snack, when two massive men dragged him into a black car, put a bag over his head and…

And  **_what_ ** ? His whole mind was a haze. He couldn’t remember much at all.

Kokichi pressed both of his pointer fingers to his temples. His eyesight wobbled.

What was he forgetting? It was something important. It had to be.

Kokichi sat down, took a few deep breaths.

And then he spotted the other kid.

Only a few centimeters taller, the other boy in the room wore the same black gakuran as him. But they were a common boy’s uniform. He didn’t think they were from the same school. Especially with the hat, slightly off center over the boy’s soft white hair. White. Kid had pale skin too, almost like paper. Maybe an albino? Some schools would have still forced the poor kid to dye his hair black. He knew his own had a “black hair only” policy, the backward twats. Even the foreign girl who sat in front of him had to comply, despite the equally enforced “no dyeing of hair” rule.

Japan was stupid. Rules were stupid. And there was a kid slumped against the shoe locker in the back that needed his help.

Carefully, Kokichi stepped forward. The kid had headphones on, and wasn’t breathing, though he was warm and had a heartbeat.

Kokichi gulped. This was exactly the sort of start to a horror comic. The kid had to be a ghost or-

Curiosity got the better of Kokichi, and he reached out to the kid. His body was… hard. Like it had no give under the clothes. Kokichi peeled off one of the kid’s gloves.

And laughed.

“A goddamn robot,” he chuckled, breathing out. “I’m going to regret this, but let’s see if I can’t turn you on.”

Kokichi put the glove back on the robot’s exposed hand, and opened its mouth, poking the plastic teeth. No dice. The eyes had no eyelids, and the headphones didn’t come off or open.

There was a pretty shiny red button on the back of his neck, though, under the collar of his gakuran. Kokichi pressed it lightly, then tried pressing and holding.

“…miss you,” the robot said as it sputtered to life, before jumping back slightly.

Somehow, Kokichi felt a sharp pain, washing over him.

**_Sadness_ ** , and he didn't know why.  Kokichi swallowed the feeling down and looked at the robot in front of him, in slight disbelief.

“You were out cold,” Kokichi explained, meekly, a bit embarrassed. “Sorry for poking around.”

The robot frowned. “You had better be sorry! If you damaged anything, you’ll be hearing a word from my lawyer!”

“Do robots have… lawyers?” Kokichi asked back, curious.

“That remark is extremely robophobic!” the robot shot back, glaring at Kokichi.

“Whoa, there. I just woke up here, too. I’m not trying to offend you.”

The robot just shook its head, and wobbled to its feet. “My apologies. I… do not like to be force-shut-off. Someone snuck up on me from behind and….” The robot rolled the collar back over his button and the six holes surrounding it. “You tell no-one of this.”

“What, that button, or that you’re a robot?”

“Either.”

“Fine. But you have to tell me what to call you.”

“K1-b0.”

“You don’t want people knowing you’re not a robot, but you want me to call you something that’s not a human name?”

“My… my creator’s name then. Iidabashi Ren. Yours?”

“Ouma Kokichi.”

K1-b0 nodded, and looked at the bars on the window behind him. “Let’s figure out where we are first, Ouma-san.”

Somehow, being referred to by his last name annoyed Kokichi, but he couldn't put his finger on why.

“Stand behind me as we move.”

“Ooooh, protected by a mech!”

“I’m not strong, I don’t think I could even lift you. But my body is very durable. If this is a kidnapping, I’m at least heavy enough to protect you from a knife or low caliber bullet. In exchange, you watch my emergency switch on my neck.”

“Fair, Iidabashi-san.”

“Let’s go,” K1-b0 said sharply, and slid open the classroom door, to shouts and gunfire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be in Cali the next few days. Don't expect another update until Wednesday next week or so.


	26. Pressing Reset Fifty Times Won’t Make it Happen Faster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So why was 26 so late?
> 
> A) My sister gave birth so I'm now an aunt
> 
> B) I was running the Podcast Beyond meet and greet event at PSX, out in California
> 
> C) I had to train our China factory for my day job- being an actual rocket scientist/programmer
> 
> D) Hannukkah
> 
> E) I wanted to work on a personal project
> 
> F) My computer crashed and I lost my entire story due to a corrupted save file
> 
> G) All of the above.
> 
> It's G. I have this other thing called life that gets in the way sometimes (plus a corrupted lost save didn't help matters). Please remember that I'm doing this in my spare time, FOR FREE, as is qwerty.
> 
> Coming on, especially as someone who's never given a review or any kind of constructive criticism, and asking why I haven't posted yet isn't cool. Life happens. I'll make a chapter hiatus update if something really severe hits. But if I'm late... please don't ask? It just makes me more anxious. I'm doing this for fun. I'm not being paid- in fact, outside of my day job I take paid cosplay/sewing commissions and I put all of that on hold for a few months so I could get bak into some personal cosplay and writing projects (I haven't made a single cosplay for myself in a year, and look at my writing history- nothing in MONTHS aside from this). So I'm actually losing money to give you all a story for free.
> 
> I'm not asking for praise, at the end of the day this is just really something of a self indulgent personal project. But if I don't update for a week... well. It happens.
> 
> That being said, I hope to have one more chapter to you tomorrow or Monday. I don't celebrate Christmas, but my office does, so I get an extra day off to myself, something I haven't had in months (all of my PTO has been running around- to Japan, to California, etc).
> 
> Thanks for listening to my rant and I hope you all are enjoying so far. Merry Christmas, to those that celebrate. :)
> 
> -Div/Sara

What looked like a massive digger machine, with yellow and white paint and the word EXISAL painted on the side, was firing at them- at their feet, more specifically. Kokichi stopped, and smirked, while K1-b0 panicked.

“It’s not shooting  **_us_ ** ,” Kokichi said calmly. “It’s like a gatekeeper in an RPG when they don’t want an invisible wall.”

“A… what?” K1-b0’s eyes turned white and spun. So much for hiding he was a robot.

“It’s trying to prevent us from going downstairs, is all.”

“Hey, punk!” A tinny voice sounded from a speaker on the mech.

“So, you talk. What’s next?  **_Welcome to Corneria_ ** ?”

“Smartass. I’m not an NPC, you know.”

“Save it for the judge,” Kokichi snarked back.

“Just get your ass to the gym before I have to actually shoot it.”

“Would be nice if you told us which way.”

The mech sounded bored. “Just follow the sounds of shooting and screaming kids. Easy enough.”

Kokichi rolled his eyes and laughed. It was theme-park scary, that was all.

He whipped his arms above his head and screamed loudly. “Waaaaaaaah I don’t wanna die!” as he laughed and followed the sounds of others in the haunted-house school.

* * *

Sixteen of them had been corralled in the gym, Kokichi flush from his run. He needed to exercise more. The yellow mech lumbered in behind Kokichi, blocking the door.

Most of the kids in front of him- eight girls, six boys, and the extremely panicked robot from his own classroom, looked downright frightened. Kokichi just laughed. If these giant mechs wanted to kill them all, they would have long done it already.

No, this was a game.

And when the five mechs opened up to reveal five two-toned teddy bear animatronics, Kokichi knew exactly where he was.

He’d gotten on Danganronpa.

* * *

The application was a bit hazy in his mind, but he remembered bits of his interview. The stage, the bright lights, the camera operator asking him what talent he’d want. So, it was no surprise when the bears shot clear dry cleaning packages of clothing at them. Still a little winded, he caught his, turning the shrink wrap over in his hands. He couldn’t make out too much of what it looked like inside, except that he could feel a pair of shoes in the middle of the bundle, and everything outside it was rough white cloth.

“Where’s Monokuma, then?” Kokichi asked.

“Upupupupu! Glad you asked!” The black and white animatronic bear crawled up to the podium on the gym stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present the fifty-third class of Danganronpa, the students of the Gifted Juveniles Academy!”

Slowly, it was like a lightbulb going off in everyone’s heads.

A short red-haired girl muttered. “Huh. That’s a surprise.”

A blonde edging herself very closely to a navy-blue haired boy in a black cap squealed a little, rolling her dry-cleaning bag in her hands. He pulled the cap further down his face, a little embarrassed.

“Well, now, seeing as it’s also our 30 th anniversary- how’s that folks, this show’s almost twice as old as the cast!- we’ve got a special treat! Normally we don’t show you all how we make the sausage, but this time we are! So let’s pull up our lucky contestants and give ‘em the old Danganronpa makeover right here! New clothes, new personality, new talent! Perfect for our show, riiiiiight?

“So let’s start with our first contestant! Check your laundry tags, boys and girls, they’re your new names now.”

A boy with greenish blonde hair walked up confidently to the stage, staring Monokuma right in the eye. “Long time no see, plush toy.”

“Oooh, and here we have fighting words, right off the bat!” I don’t think the young man needs an introduction, but here’s Amami Rantaro, our Ultimate Survivor. Man, two sacrifices! What a stand-up guy! Gets all the way to the end and can’t  **_bear_ ** to see the mastermind crushed like the ant they are. Go on back and get changed.”

“Amami-kun likes long walks on the beach, giving ladies the smolder and-”

The animatronic froze still.

“Um, is he broken?” the short red haired girl finally asked.

One of the other bears laughed. “No, just on pause so that when Amami-kun walks out, we can jump-cut.”

“Oh.” She shuffled, looking down at her feet.

“Acting is 90% waiting kid. Get used to it. We cut  **_weeks_ ** down to about thirteen hours of heart pounding adventure every season. Whole lot of people just hanging out on the grass is shit for ratings.”

Rantaro came back around from the curtain, looking a bit sheepish.

“Hey that was quick! Monokuma said, springing right back to life, poking the kid as high as the animatronic could reach- in the knee. Kokichi was somehow reminded of someone poking an avocado for ripeness. “And next time, don’t put all those piercings in behind the curtain,” Monokuma added, a glint of sadism in his eye. “I’m sure the viewers at home wanted their taste of first blood!”

One by one, the kids were called up. “Heeeey, lucky number seven! It’s our charity case, Ouma Kokichi!”

Charity case?

Kokichi wasn’t- no. He didn’t remember much in detail, but fragments of his interview stuck with him.

A month to live.

Leukemia charity?

But, he reached up and tugged his hair. It was his, and real. Did he forgo chemotherapy to be on this show?

At the very least, it explained to him why he’d even consider doing something like this, if he was going to die anyway. Kokichi grinned slightly and practically skipped up on the stage, twirled, and did a little bow. “Nice to murder- I mean meet- everyone!” Kokichi said with a grin before slipping backstage.

A young woman with giant glasses and circle braids waited for him, directing him to a curtain to change. In a minute, he was back out to the main backstage, a ball of his school uniform in hand.

“Your kerchief is back-back-backwards,” the woman chided, adjusting it, holding her thumb on a spot and rotating it around until her thumb was centered on his neck.  “And let me fix your-your hair.”

A little gel later and Kokichi was back on stage, having tossed his school uniform in the ever-growing pile of the contestants’ former clothing. Kokichi sauntered across the stage, and squat to glare the animatronic teddy bear straight in the eye.

“You want me to play this game? I’ll play.”

“Ooooooh, those are some fighting words, they are!” Monokuma shot back.

Kokichi gave his grandest smirk, did a twirl, and jumped off the stage.

* * *

“All right ya sick fucks,” Monokuma commented. “You all should probably eat ‘n shit ‘n stuff. Except the bag of bolts here.”

“I take offense to that statement!” K1-b0 whined.

“You’re really a robot?” the one named Momota Kaito asked incredulously. “That ain’t just a mask?”

“Would you prefer I detach my face-plate to show you?” K1-b0 asked, sighing. “The lady behind the curtain even had me wipe off all the makeup I put on my face. I figured for once I’d actually be able to hide my... er, lack of humanity as it were.”

“No offense, but the minute you looked up from under your hat it was obvious. Your eyes... uh... they’re...” Kaito looked down. “Is ‘glowing and super anime’ an insult? It feels like it is.”

K1-b0 frowned. “I guess the rest of you should probably take care of yourselves.”

“Do you... I don’t know, need to charge?” a blonde girl with music note hairpins asked. Akamatsu Kaede. A pianist. Or she would be soon, Kokichi mused.

“Only about once a week, I have about five days left before I should..” K1-b0 replied, twiddling his fingers and blushing hard by a red LED glow through his soft white plastic faceplate.

“Don’t know about you all but I am staaaaarving, it feels like I haven’t eaten all day...” Kokichi piped up. “I’m getting something to eat.”

“Me too, actually,” a taller boy with long black hair agreed. He was... snakelike. Shinguji Korekiyo? Kokichi was having trouble putting all the new names to faces.

* * *

The group was kicked out of the gym, ushered to the cafeteria where a modest buffet awaited them.

“I don’t need you all sick to your stomachs, the brainwashing can make you puke. So don’t overdo it, you hear?” Monokuma was stern.

“Have we... we’ve already been brainwashed.” Kokichi piped up. It was a statement, not a question.

“What makes you say that?” the animatronic teddy bear asked, cocking its head side to side.

“My memory is waaaay too fuzzy. I’ve got potholes running through it. Anyone else remember clearly how they got here?”

The group all shook their heads.

“Yeah. You’re right. We already did a test run a while ago. If you wanna see the tapes, I have them. Needed to make you forget a few things first.”

“Like how we’re being held here against our will? I don’t ever remember signing up to get myself killed.” K1-b0 asked. “In... a manner of speaking.”

“If you want to see anything from the past week, I can go grab it. It’s mostly stupid stuff, like signing contracts, but it’s all there. We keep our receipts, thank you.”

“I want to see the brainwashing.” Kokichi said sternly. “You say you have the receipts. Prove it.”

Monokuma scrunched up its face. “Nobody’s ever actually asked.”

“So you’re bluffing th-”

The monitor in the cafeteria turned on. “I didn’t say I was bluffing. Just that nobody asks.”

The group watched as they all smiled and laughed in the video, talking amongst themselves, in the uniforms they were currently in and addressing each other by name- given name no less. They all willingly laid down in a circle on futons in the gym, before a flash sparked and they passed out collectively.

“K1-b0 isn’t here,” Kokichi remarked.

“He’s a robot, what’d you expect? We just put him in the empty classroom with you. We didn’t need to wipe anything, he was just off. Lemme fast forward this bit.”

The playback moved at high speed, and eventually a few of the kids began to twitch on their futon, timestamped around 4AM. Several people, adults, in marching black fleece jackets, started picking up the kids and hauling them off.

“Here’s the cam from the first floor classroom,” Monokuma said, as the view swapped. A young man in giant circle glasses dragged K1-b0 in the room, panting.

“I can’t lift him, no way I’m stuffing him in a locker,” the young man said.

“Leave him by the back, then. If you can’t carry him, I certainly can’t.”

A woman, in sunglasses, a lab coat, and all-together too-high heels was carrying Kokichi in the shot, bridal style and sound asleep.

“Toshiro-kun, please open this locker for Kokichi-kun at least. I can’t hold him much longer.”

Monokuma paused the feed.

“Questions?”

“Did we... know each other before?”

The lanky kid in the black hat. Saihara Shuichi.

“You did.”

“So what, same high school? Like Hope’s Peak?” asked the shortest among them, a boy adjusting his hat with horns.  **_Ryoma_ ** .

“Nah. You all just auditioned around the same time and met then- heck some of you aren’t even from Japan. So the secret’s out then. You’ve been asleep nearly a day. You should all probably eat, especially since you’re gonna get knocked out for another couple from the talent brainwashing.”

“We won’t be new people?” Kaede asked.

“Just giving you all a skill. I’m not doing anything eeee- well, no. I’m deleting these last few hours and might adjust your backstories a bit if I need to. Nothing major.” Monokuma grinned. “You’re all pretty good just the way you are. Just one little push should do it.”

Kokichi frowned, but felt oddly satisfied. Even with all the camera trickery in the world, it seemed like they really  **_were_ ** okay with this.

And if he was really dying anyway, what did he have to lose?

* * *

“Whelp, we’re back, folks! And don’t forget, you can always check out our first-person feeds on danganron dot pa slash live!” Monokuma boomed. “I’m sure you’re ready to see the main event. This group a’normies are going to all get their special talent! How cool is that! Don’t worry folks-at-home, this stuff doesn’t work through a TV screen, so no brainwashing for you!  **_Yet_ ** ,” he added with a sinister undertone. “Shall we?”

Out of one of the giant digger machines popped what looked like a massive flashlight. “Smile for the cameras, boys and girls!”

Kokichi gasped and banged against a locker. His head was swimming, and worse, he felt like he was going to puke.

**_Breathe_ ** . 

After taking a moment to steel himself, he tried the door. Just  **_great_ ** . He was locked inside.

Kokichi quickly checked himself. However he ended up in here it seemed like they were thorough, but not terribly so. His wallet and cell phone were gone, as was the ring of lockpicks he kept in his coat pocket. The real ring, though, was still in the hidden lining of his pants. He fished it out, and started to work the lock from his side.

He frowned. He needed more leverage. Patting himself down, he found a half opened pack of strawberry bubblegum. He didn’t remember ever having any, but he grinned. That would work.

He stuffed three pieces in his mouth, and chewed until pliable, then shoved the wad in the hole and jiggled the lock.

The door gave way.

A weird classroom. Bars on the windows. Did he get sent to juvie or something? He remembered... no, those weren’t police that took him away. Black suits, black car. Did he piss off the wrong people...? And what was with the weird... person slumped against the shoe locker in the back of the room?

Kokichi stepped forward carefully. It was... Kokichi couldn’t tell if it was wearing clothes or if that’s just how the android was designed. At least, he assumed it was one. Metal plates, thick black fabric at the joints, a white plastic face with black lines running from eyes to chin. 

It wasn’t moving.

“Ro-butt, turn on?” Kokichi asked. No movement.

“You got a power button somewhere?” he asked aloud before seeing a piece of paper stuck in its mouth.

**_RED BUTTON INSIDE COLLAR. PRESS AND HOLD 5-10S._ **

Kokichi frowned. Whoever kept him captive must have left him instructions. But would he follow them?

Curiosity got the better of the purple-haired boy and he shifted the android around, looking for the button. He found it, on the back of the neck, surrounded by six plugs that seemed to connect the collar directly into the android’s neck.

He pressed. 

The machine whirred to life.

“-miss you,” it muttered before jumping back a little. “AURGH. What- where am- who are...?”

“We’re kidnapped, no clue, your worst nightmare,” Kokichi replied, ticking off imaginary numbers off his fingers.

The android glared. “I suppose I must believe you... for now. I am K1-b0. ‘Your worst nightmare’ hardly sounds like a name.”

“Ouma. Ouma Kokichi,” Kokichi replied after hesitating, extending a hand.

“I am heavy. I will right myself,” K1-b0 replied. “However I will remember your offer of kindness, Ouma-san.”

“Don’t mention it, Keeboy.”

K1-b0 pouted. “Memory retracted.”

“Oof. Out-sassed by gasoline-breath!”

“I do not run on gasoline, Ouma-san!”

“Yeah whatev’s. Want to bust out of here or what?”

“Indeed.”

* * *

The door hadn’t even been locked. Surprise. Kokichi and K1-b0 still made their way nervously, before running headlong into a short boy in a prisoner’s uniform and a young woman dressed like a gothic maid.

“H-hello,” she said politely. “I don’t suppose you know where we are?”

“No more than you, apparently,” the robot replied. “I am K1-b0. Who might you two be?”

“Tojo Kirumi. A pleasure,” the girl said with a shy bow. “At your service.”

“Well, okay,” Kokichi said with a grin. “I want a giant green tea milkshake, five cheeseburgers, and a pony.”

“Is this a formal request?”

Kokichi’s jaw dropped. “I don’t know. Waddya think?”

“I think?” Kirumi laughed quietly. “I think I would need to see where we are before I commit. And I will need payment, of course,” she added with a small smile.

Kokichi looked down at his fingernails, quietly nervous and contemplating biting them to take off the edge. “Whatever you want, I’ve got it.”

Kirumi frowned. “Who… exactly are you two?”

“Ouma Kokichi. Supreme ruler of DICE, the most notorious shadow organization. Of course I have the dough.”

**_Dough that's hot from my parent’s phantom thieving_ ** , he thought to himself, but had no desire to say aloud.

“You… you don’t happen to be an Ultimate, do you?” the shorter one- in a black and blue prison stripe uniform with a leather jacket and a demon-eared hat- piped up.

Kokichi looked at the pair of them in shock, before K1-b0 cut in, cheerfully and with no regard to his own self preservation. He was a robot after all, it wasn’t like  **_he_ ** had anything to worry about.

“As I said before, my name is K1-b0!” he said, smiling, and puffing out his chest- as much as he could for someone made of metal who couldn’t breathe. “I was created by Professor Iidabashi and I am the Ultimate Robot!”

“Heh. At least you’re proud of who you are,” the short boy scoffed. “Hoshi Ryoma. Ultimate Tennis Player. And… Ultimate Prisoner, as it were.”

“U… Ultimate Maid,” piped in Kirumi quietly.

Kokichi shrugged. “Supreme Leader,” he said with a grin, unwilling to admit his nationally recognized Ultimate skill was in something as useless as pulling pranks and lying.

Ryoma just laughed at that. “Well, that's quite the recognition. I’m not sure how you even prove something like that,” he said, adjusting his hat.

“My worry is why are we all here?” Kirumi added frowning. “Ultimates are usually separated for public safety, aren’t we?”

And that’s when the monitor behind them fizzled to life.


	27. Blackout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Few things- One, crossed the 80k threshold! And we're only at the start of Chapter 1's Free Time segment, lol.
> 
> You probably notice I'm moving through the game portions pretty quickly. I want to spend my time writing what Kokichi (and maaaaybe a surprise other character) is doing during the game, and not focus on what's already covered by in game materials. I do have a copy of the entire game script, but won't quote exactly (I'm using the ripped files so segments of the script are sadly out of order and none of the character's names are attached to lines since they're directly part of the text boxes in game). I'm going to speed through most main plot events and the trials, unless theres something specific I'm going to focus on relating to the actual meta story I'm trying to tell.
> 
> You'll see what I mean at the end of the next chapter, and the one immediately following it.
> 
> You'll hate me, but you'll see :)
> 
> TL;DR, I'm not changing any of the events of v3, but I am going to speed through some of the game itself to cover new material thats happening concurrently (or way, /way/ earlier...)
> 
> Oh, one other thing. I upped the rating to M. It's never going to get explicit, but the Love Hotel is in the game, and I'm going to be using it for a mechanic in my story.

The screen fizzled for a moment, before a teddy bear appeared- half black, half white, and all bad news, its fangs clearly visible as it laughed, demanding their presence in the gym.

Then the bear balked.

“Eeeeeh, forget it. Not all of you are conscious yet. I’ll let the early birds do a little bit of ‘splorin first. I’ll check back with you all in a bit.”

The TV made a sharp sound, and switched off.

“You think that’s our captor?” K1-b0 asked curiously.

“Seeing as you are an autonomous robot, it seems possible,” Kirumi replied.

K1-b0 blanched at that, and Kirumi bowed her head in shame. Kokichi’s mind, meanwhile, was running on a different track entirely.

“Ugh, chloroform, but that doesn’t make much sense...” Kokichi muttered.

“What did you say, Ouma-san?” Kirumi asked. “And it seems as though we are safe, for now, though I am disgusted by the overgrowth and dust in this facility. It looks as though it’s been left to disrepair for years.”

“No kiddin’,” Ryoma piped.

“I said  **_chloroform_ ** . But that doesn’t make sense, because both Hoshi-chan and I are... let’s say ‘fun sized’, and leave it at that. Unless they dosed specifically for us but...” Kokichi thrummed his fingers against the metal clips of his coat. 

“Don’t use ‘chan’ with me, please,” Ryoma scoffed.

“Of course not, Hoshi- **_chan_ ** ,” Kokichi shot back, more forcefully.

Ryoma merely signed and adjusted his hat. “Figures.”

Kokichi twitched nervously. This was too much. And Kirumi could see it written on his face. He needed to pull himself together, outwardly at the very least.

“Why don’t we all explore as a group and see what’s actually here?” she suggested. “It seems like a school.”

Kokichi nodded, ripping open his gum and shoving a piece in his mouth, chewing hard. He blew a giant bubble and let it burst, splattering his face with the sticky pink goo and a loud bang.

That helped.

Deftly, he peeled the gum stuck to the top his nose off, laughed quietly, and inhaled the wad to chew again.

“You really ought to learn some manners, Ouma-san,” Kirumi said, hand over her mouth to hide a laugh.

“Yeah, sure,  **_Mom_ ** ,” Kokichi scoffed back as they made their way to the main entryway.

“There’s no shoe lockers,” Kokichi observed aloud as they stood in the foyer near giant double doors. “Not that it matters.” But Kokichi knew what that meant. The school probably wasn’t Japanese. He didn’t even see the evidence of them- no bolts stripped from the floor, or any kind of difference in the fade on the tiling from the sun through the windows, barred though they were.

It meant something important- they were very far from home. No Japanese school he’d seen had shoe lockers in the classroom- at least if they did they still had ones at entry. They must have just been cubbies.

“You think we can just... leave?” Ryoma asked curiously.

“It is worth a shot,” Kirumi replied. Gingerly, she stepped forward, running a black glove along the door handle. “ **_Filthy_ ** .”

“I can already feel my sensors plugging up from the dust,” K1-b0 commented. “I would much prefer the outside air than this. I doubt I’ll be able to find a working can of compressed air given the state of this place.”

“Pooooor baaaaby,” Kokichi commented, quietly fingering the lining of his pants for his lockpicks, just in case he needed them. The fidgeting helped, anyway. It felt like a piece of him was missing, and the partial amnesia wasn’t helping. Whole chunks of his memory felt like they’d been ripped out, but since they weren’t there... what was gone? When he tried to remember the last few weeks, it was a jumbled mess.

It was worse  **_knowing_ ** you were missing pieces.

Kirumi pushed, and the doors, surprisingly, gave way easily, to sunny clear skies.

And a massive dome surrounding the campus.

* * *

“Should’a known,” Ryoma said, chucking. “Most prisons have an outdoor courtyard, after all.”

“Whoa, Hoshi-chan sure is morbid, isn’t he?” Kokichi said with a massive grin.

Well, there went his panic straight into high gear. He went from thrumming at his jacket’s clips to yanking the loose threads of his ruined hem. He’d picked at it so much, of course the edges had gone threadbare. And that didn’t even speak of his collar, now nonexistent under the kerchief he wore on his neck from months of continual tugging.

Kokichi sighed and steeled himself. He was a thinker, and despite what he said, not a great leader under pressure. His job in DICE was to make sure they didn’t get put in pressure  **_in the first place_ ** . He was a planner, but when push came to shove?

At least he was a good lair.

“Hm, well if we are imprisoned here, there must be a place for us to eat and sleep,” Kirumi said simply, scanning the courtyard. “Despite the state of the school building itself, the lawn here is freshly mown and the pathways in good order. Curious.”

Kokichi looked down, realizing that Kirumi was right. The brick pathways were weed free, and while they were slightly sun-bleached, they were orderly and unimpeded by roots like the inside of the school had been.

It felt... it felt like a set, almost. The television in the classroom and the ones in the hall certainly shouldn’t have had any sort of electricity, and the juxtaposition of the working tech among the ruins made little sense at all.

“I think that might be a dormitory, Tojo-san,” K1-b0 remarked, pointing out an octagon-shaped building in the courtyard.

“Heh, good eyes, bot,” Ryoma remarked. “You… you don’t happen to be strong enough to punch a hole in that dome, do’ya?”

“Sadly, no. My strength, speed, and even sight and hearing are capped at around human strength. The only thing in my favor is my resilience, I suppose.”

“Gimme a terminal you’re compatible with, and I could overclock you,” Kokichi said with a grin, calming again under Kirumi leading the four of them, head high, to the building K1-b0 noticed. “Make you actually useful in busting out.”

“Well I never!” K1-b0 replied, affronted. “Firstly, I’ve yet to see something like that here, and I highly doubt this high school, or prison, or whatever-it-is would even possess such a facility. And that’s to say nothing of if I would allow some… some…  **_robophobic stranger_ ** to go messing around with what is essentially my brain!”

“Awwwww… what’s a lil’ lobotomy among friends?” Kokichi grinned, to Ryoma’s frown and K1-b0’s horrified expression.

“I don’t expect some teenager to even parse my code, anyway, it’s the most advanced on the planet,” K1-b0 said with a final huff as Kirumi pulled the building’s doors open.

“Katherine-Bonnie,” Kokichi said quietly, as they stepped inside. K1-b0 had been right. It was a dorm.

“What did you just say?” K1-b0 asked.

“ **_Katherine_ ** .  **_Bonnie_ ** . You’re running the K-B AI. I… let’s say I’ve done some work on it before.” Kokichi frowned. The words spilled out on their own, and as he dug though his memory, he remembered downloading one of the public test partitions to mess with. Something about asking if robots had…

K1-b0 just stared. “My body and primary functions were created by the Professor, yes, but… the core AI came from outside. I…” he stared dumbstruck at the shorter boy. “I suppose my opinion of you may change. Do not expect me to tolerate you if you continue to insult me, however.”

“Gentlemen?” Kirumi asked, tapping her heel on the floor. “I believe we have found our home for the time being. These bedrooms have deadbolts on the doors but are currently unlocked. I am going to clean them to my satisfaction. Please either assist, or leave. Ouma-san and K1-b0-san, I do believe your rooms are adjacent, if you wish to check if they are satisfactory.”

K1-b0 stiffened a little. “Oh no,” he said quietly. “I... I am going to die in about three days.”

“Why would letting you know of the state of our sleeping quarters prompt such a thought, K1-b0-san?”

“I do not, and cannot, sleep, Tojo-san,” K1-b0 nervously replied. “Sometime soon, I will need to recharge as well. I am grateful there seems to be a source of electricity here, but without a means to tap into it, I will cease to function.”

“You can’t just, dunno, plug into a wall?” Ryoma asked.

“No, I need a transformer. My systems run off a much higher amperage than a wall outlet would provide.”

“Well, uh, hardware ain’t my specialty, but what about modding a hair dryer or straightener? They’re…” Kokichi trailed off, hands behind his head in thought.

“High watt devices. Not necessarily high amp. But… you may be on to something. Hopefully we can find something that might work. But if you fry me, you’ll be hearing from my lawyer, Ouma-san.”

* * *

Kokichi found a thin layer of dust all over everything in his room, with one exception. The closet was full of his DICE uniform, all frayed like the one he wore, but neatly pressed, plus his captain’s hat and two shredded but clean-smelling cloaks.

A bottle of flat grape soda sat on his desk. He winced and promptly poured it out into the tub.

Crossing his arms at the oddity, he stepped out, peeking into the room next door. K1-b0’s door was ajar.

And he was staring at a strange chair squashed in the back corner of his own dorm.

“Why the long face?” he asked curiously into the room.

“It’s… my dock.”

“Your dock? You mean that lounge chair is your charger?”

“…It is. I am debating whether to just start recharging now or… wait until after I hear what our captor has to say. Considering it is here, in my room… well.”

“At least it means he doesn't want to kiiiiiiiiill yoooooooou,” Kokichi said, a singsong tone to his mocking voice.

“It also likely means there is food here for you and the others as well. You are correct, it seems like wherever we are, as old and run down as it may be, our captor wants us to have some level of comfort. I wonder what he wants.”

Kokichi shrugged. “Well, I for one am not doing any housework unless I haaaave to. I’m going exploring.”

“I’m coming. To… keep an eye on you, at the very least.”

“Awwww, falling in love, Keeboy? Oh wait, that’s not possible,” Kokichi replied, sticking out a slender, accusatory finger. “You’re just a hunk of metal. Love is lost on you.” Of everyone he’d seen so far, and as much as he hated to admit it, this android was suspect number one on his already growing mental checklist of issues he needed to figure out. Best keep him at arm’s length until Kokichi knew where the robot really stood. Calling someone a friend before you really trusted them was a quick recipe for disaster.

K1-b0 merely made an aggravated whine, but followed the grinning, cackling boy out of his bedroom, anyway.

* * *

“Whoa. Looks like we really are well stocked,” Kokichi said, whistling, as he looked at the mass that was the warehouse. “Food, survival gear, camping supplies, electronics… some of it’s kinda dusty, but…”

“ **_Kind of_ ** ? At this rate, it will be like I am walking through molasses. My IP rating is only 3X.”

“Like your shirt size.”

“I’ll have you know I am merely an XL, Ouma-san, despite my weight. I have a large quantity of components that make up my being, and this was the most compact form the Professor could create.”

“He could have made you taller and thinner, you know.”

“Clearly you have never attempted to wire anything in your lifetime. The goal is to minimize the distance between components as much as possible. Sadly, my knowledge of robotics is rudimentary at best, and I have no desire to change my design, anyway. I am as he created me.”

“Hold up. You’re a robot and you don’t know how you’re built?”

“You’re a human, do  **_you_ ** know how to clone yourself? From a test tube, not the… erm, old fashioned way.”

Kokichi breathed in, before glaring. “Mooooooom,” he cried at no-one. “The wind-up toy is making fun of meeeeeeee!”

“It’s as though you  **_want_ ** me to hate you,” K1-b0 said, shaking his head.

Kokichi snapped out of his crocodile tears as quickly as they came. If K1-b0 caught on what he was doing, he wouldn’t actually get to make his own judgement on the bot. An opinion was already forming, however- smarter than the robot seemed to give himself credit for, altogether far too modest, and most importantly, actually able to understand sarcasm, at least to a marginal degree. Kokichi briefly wondered if he was really just an actor in a very high tech costume. It was wide enough that a skinnier shorter guy could be inside. The voice, in particular, sounded… far too human, especially given the stiff face and glowing eyes, inflected with worry or irritation the way a real person’s would.

Kokichi, lost in thought, bit his thumb.

* * *

The next thing he knew, K1-b0 knelt over him. The bot was pressing one of those instant compressor packs on his face, and Kokichi was restrained with a crinkly tinfoil-like shock blanket.

“A-apologies,” K1-b0 said nervously. “I didn’t think you were having a seizure, but I erred on the side of caution. You’ve been unconscious exactly two minutes and forty-three seconds. I am going to find a pocket light and make sure you did not get a concussion. Would you tell me your name, please?”

“Ouma Kokichi…” Kokichi said nervously. “For someone who knows jack about robotics, you seem like you’re what, a nurse?”

“Call me fascinated with the human body… oh dear, that came out wrong, didn’t it?”

“Oooooooh, kinky,” Kokichi snarked back.

“Well, it seems like your memory is functioning, at least,” K1-b0 groaned. “I am going to un-restrain you, please roll with the blanket so it doesn’t tangle?”

Kokichi compiled, crying “wheeeee!” as K1-b0 unrolled him from his burrito.

“I cannot make head nor tails of you, Ouma-san,” K1-b0 said, sighing. “Look at me, please, and follow my finger with your eyes.”

K1-b0 moved his pointer finger in an arc in front of Kokichi’s field of view.

“I think you’re fine.  **_Thankfully_ ** . There are some medical supplies in here, but it doesn’t extend far past first aid. Hold on.”

K1-b0 looked down, and Kokichi winced. He didn’t want to admit it, but now that the shock blanket wasn’t pressing his arms into his side, he felt it.

His right arm felt like it was on fire, and his fingers were twitching erratically.

Kokichi quickly bent and flexed it, and the spasm seemed to die as quickly as it came. Kokichi exhaled. It was still in severe pain, but the twitching felt like it was under control.

“Give me your arm.”

Kokichi whipped it to his chest.

“Hold out your arm,  **_please_ ** .”

Kokichi bit his lip, but after a quick debate in his head, he complied. If K1-b0 was working for his captor, willingly or unknowingly, he at least wasn’t going to harm him. At least not here, not now.

“Relax it as completely as you can,” K1-b0 instructed. Kokichi sighed, and resigned himself to the android poking and prodding at his arm, before K1-b0 began to methodically massage his hand.

They sat in silence, until Kokichi realized what was on the bottom shelf of the rack in front of him, hiding all the way in the back of the warehouse. He scooted closer, sitting on the shock blanket, and K1-b0 scooted with him, to continue working on his hand, until Kokichi could reach out to the contents with his left.

Funerary items.

Long white candles, stacks of incense. Buddhist prayers.

And sixteen small portraits in black frames, with grey and purple ribbons wrapped around- the top one a bust-up portrait of the maid currently tearing through the dorms they’d found.

K1-b0 leaned over.

“There’s one of each of the four of us… and twelve others? That matches the sixteen pixel sprites on the doors in the dormitories. How…”

“Morbid? Gross? Creepy?” Kokichi finished for him. “And you’re not even getting to the worst part of it all.”

“That those are in the same area of Buddhist funeral preparations?”

“No! Look at me! It’s a shitty photo! I’m all cross-eyed!”

“ **_That’s_ ** what bothers you?!”

“Well, why are you worried? If you’re really based on the K-B AI, don’t you auto-backup? Heck, if I deactivated you right now, shouldn’t you jump to your home terminal? You could be more useful than getting creepily intimate with my right arm and call for help.”

“I wish I could, Ouma-san, but while I sense minor electronic radiation, likely from those monitors that are everywhere, well… there’s no wireless signal. Whoever is broadcasting must be local, and the dome is very likely one massive Faraday cage. My home terminal must be outside, I cannot back up to or reach it.”

Kokichi frowned, but allowed K1-b0 to move a little closer and work on his shoulder.

“Oh,” he said quietly, before snapping out of it. “It just doesn’t… we have medical supplies, and a binder full of Yu-Gi-Oh cards and an entire grocery store aisle of nonperishables, but we’re in a friggin’ dome?”

“Perhaps a… bomb shelter?”

Kokichi winced as K1-b0 dug into a sore spot. “Feels more like an alien zoo if you ask me.”

“Well, the uptick at the end of my sentence would imply I was seeking an opinion.”

“There you go with the sass again. Do you have a punch-card, that when you fill in enough good comebacks, you get to be a real boy?”

K1-b0 merely shook his head.

* * *

“How is it now, Ouma-san?”

“Well, if you weren’t so shitty, I’d probably be fine. But that’ll have to do.” Kokichi rolled his shoulder, flexed his elbow, and clenched and unclenched his fist. Everything was in working order.

Which was odd, because he’d bitten his  **_left_ ** thumb. That aftertaste  **_still_ ** burned his mouth- no way was he doing that ever again.

* * *

Kokichi, one bag full of toiletries and junk food, and K1-b0, an equally full one of washcloths, wax, oil, compressed air, and rubbing alcohol, stepped out towards the entranceway, dodging a tarp full of track and field supplies. Well, if it was a bomb shelter, or zoo, or whatever else crazy place they were in, might as well be somewhat comfortable- and not have gummy worm breath.

“So lemme get this straight. You seem to know a heckuva lot about human anatomy.”

“I was homeschooled. I am a learning AI. And biology- of many organic species- has always fascinated me. Did you know that when caterpillars become butterflies they quite literally turn into soup within their cocoon, but remember everything once they emerge, re-formed as an entirely new creature?”

The door to the warehouse rattled.

“Yeah, yeah, great to know, **_Encyclopedia_** **_Nerdtanica_**. See what I want to know is-” Kokichi said, raising his voice so that whoever happened to walk in on this would hear it too.

The door slipped open, and two more teenagers- Kokichi and K1-b0 had already seen their portraits in the creepy shelf, one a girl in a pink sweater vest with musical note hairpins, and a boy in a pinstripe gakuran with a faded black cap- curiously peeked inside.

“-do robots have dicks?”

K1-b0 turned bright red- literally, his entire face plate lit up like a warning signal- dropped his bag, and fled the room.

What he didn’t see was Kokichi quietly catching the bag behind him to bring to his room for him later.

Kokichi was certainly a troll, but… it seemed like that poor android had already been through enough grief.

“ **_Ugh_ ** !” the girl in pink groaned, leaving the warehouse in a huff, the meek boy following quietly behind.

* * *

It wasn’t long after Kokichi dropped K1-b0’s ‘shopping’ off in his room (and quietly prodding at the weird recliner with metal clamps and six headphone-jack like pins while marveling the insane work Kirumi had done to make the place spotless) and his own in his, contemplating if he should grab his cloak, when the TV in his room sprang to life.

That weird ass bear demanded everyone’s presence in the gym. Kokichi grumbled, tossed the cloak on his bed and shoved another pack of gum in his pants pocket, making his way there with a sigh.

* * *

Kokichi mostly tuned out the display- six dual-chrome animatronic teddy bears ordering them to murder each other. Kokichi yawned. Clearly there was something else at play. Why would sixteen high schoolers (or fifteen and an android, as Kokichi still was confused about the robot, who was now glowing a hard red and completely avoiding eye contact with his soon to be dorm neighbor).

This was some kind of prank, Kokichi  **_knew_ ** his way around a good prank. Nobody would waste this much time, money, and effort to build a giant domed school campus just to order people to murder each other. Doubly so if the place was stocked for a literal… lifetime.

K1-b0’s bomb shelter idea was starting to sound slightly less crazy, especially given the sexes of the students being relatively split down the line, and all of them nationally recognized Ultimates.

Kokichi brushed off the idea of the fifteen of them being humanity’s last stand, but the more he thought about it, the more it made a weird sort of sense. Some of the talents were odd, but he could rationalize most of the chosen skills immediately for rebuilding humanity. An inventor and a folklorist/anthropologist needed little afterthought if they were to be building new things and preserving the old.

Art, too, was vitally important for sanity, as was music, and entertainment in general, though stage magic was something of an odd choice.

Cosplay was something of an odd skill to have, but they’d need clothes.

The Amami kid wasn’t sharing his skill, but by the compass rose on his shirt, and everyone had relatively meaningful clothing it seemed, led Kokichi to think he was some kind of survivalist, and an astronaut in training would have the same sort of knowledge, too.

Someone would have to cook and clean- a maid.

If they were to repopulate… and Kokichi did not really want to consider those implications, but if they were… a child caregiver was going to be insanely helpful.

The robot seemed like he was a competent nurse and wouldn’t need food or sleep to keep watch over everyone.

An entomologist was a bit of an odd choice, but if the giant was a competent scientist…

The only ones that struck Kokichi as odd were Ryoma- the tennis player- the detective, the aikido master, and himself. From the outside, Kokichi would seem like a perfect fit as leader, but he knew stress under pressure was his single biggest weakness. One might rationalize the tennis player and martial artist as people there to keep everyone in good physical condition, but the detective?

That really did seem like the only purpose would be to… solve cases. Unless there was some other reason the tall, skinny, meek looking boy was there, shuffling back and forth in his loafers and looking down as if he was in pain.

‘Wonder if he’s just really  **_really_ ** good in bed?’, Kokichi thought to himself with a smirk.

* * *

“Look, this is so obviously a death trap even lying little me is telling you it’s a baaaaaaad idea,” Kokichi whined, looking at the hand painted DEATH ROAD TO DESPAIR sign.

After a thoroughly anime-esque rousing speech by Madame Pink Piano- Akamatsu Kaede- somehow, the musician girl, of all people, rallied everyone behind her to go ignore the bears and search for an exit. She’d found this creepy looking tunnel under the atrium at the back of the school. It was so clearly unhidden and marked, so it had to be a trap, or at the very least, lead a dead end to prove the place was completely sealed in. Watch there be some kind of lift hidden inside the fountain near the edge of the dome in front. There was  **_always_ ** a hidden room behind a waterfall. Kokichi knew his stock anime villain tropes too well.

Still, it wasn’t like Kokichi had anything better to do with the rest of the day, except maybe raid the lab that was meant for the inventor girl- Iruma Miu- and see what she had that he could use for pranks or to practice coding. Or maybe even a terminal to mess with the bot’s programming. Not maliciously of course- but there might be some more clues as to what was really going on locked away in his processor. At the very least, overclock the kid. With his form, he should be considerably stronger than he was, and yet, a geriatric basketball team could bench press more than he. At the very least, what good was their nurse if they couldn’t carry someone unconscious?

“C’mon, the worst we can do is not try, right?” Kaede cheered out, the puppy-of-a-detective on her heels. He’d jump off a cliff if she asked him to, it seemed like.

Whatever, Kokichi decided to join them in the ever-darkening tunnel…

If only to mask that his right hand was twitching again.

* * *

The floor was metallic and slick, and Kokichi was getting some very old school video-game vibes from it, not that he’d ever much played them himself.  **_Rockman_ ** , his brain supplied him, and an image of some blue robot with an arm cannon.

Kokichi just pinched the bridge of his nose, laughed, and stepped forward.

The next thing he knew, he was shuddering in pain at the entrance, laying on the ground next to Kirumi.

“You slipped and fell right in a pit,” Kirumi explained, huffing and undignified as she sat up and fixed her own hair. “I looked down and fell right in after you.”

“Looks like there’s no  **_death_ ** in that death road, at least,” Kokichi groaned. “Maybe it should be renamed ‘Extremely Painful But No Actual Death Road’.”

Kirumi hid her face behind her hand as she laughed quietly.

“Mooooom, stop, you’re embarrassing me,” Kokichi whined.

“One more time everyone, up, up!” Kaede said, chipper.

“I wanna know what drugs she’s on,” Kokichi muttered to himself as he dusted off and followed her back in the tunnel.

* * *

Two more tries, two more failures. The group was starting to memorize the patterns of traps and slick flooring, but the progress wasn’t enough. Kokichi saw everyone’s exhaustion. And while he thought they  **_were_ ** improving, there was no telling how many tries this would take, how many more falls and blackouts and how much pain.

“Everyone’s gonna drop if you keep pushin’ ‘em, Slave-Driver Akamatsu-chan,” Kokichi whined loudly. “Give it a reeeeeeest.”

“But I…”

“Akamatsu-chan, Ouma-kun is right,” the detective cut in, quietly. “We should probably call it a day.”

“Allow me to prepare everyone dinner, then,” Kirumi said, still shaking off weak knees. Kokichi got a glimpse of a deep run in one of her stockings, and a dark red abrasion underneath.

“Yeah, just be glad. What wouldja do if someone actually died in there?” Kokichi continued, goading Kaede. “For someone who keeps talking about saving everyone and finding a way out together, you sure are being a dictator. That’s  **_my_ ** job, sweetie.”

With a huff as he took one last look up to the taller Kaede, Kokichi turned tail to return to his room for a hot shower.

Hopefully his word of warning would stick. He needed some time alone to sort out what was really going on here, anyway, and the odd pains in his right arm were as good a place to start as any.


	28. Whiteout

Despite- or to spite- the day’s events, Kokichi found himself having the most comfortable, wonderful sleep he’d had in ages.

He woke early, heading straight to the tub, his eyes still foggy from waking. Oddly, even as he washed, and then soaked in the near-scalding water, his eyesight simply didn't clear.

When he realized it was too long a time for it to merely be from waking up, he panicked, almost sliding on the bathroom tile on his face, before bracing himself on the sink unit. He panted for a second, then itched for one of the drawers.

And then looked up into the mirror, his vision clear, grinning awkwardly at his own reflection. He blinked a few times, his purple eyes showing a mild haze of confusion, and his skin clear and pale from the neck up, despite being flush red downwards from the hot soak. He’d probably gone white as a ghost from worry; he’d adjust.

He shook himself out, breathed, and went to get dressed.

* * *

Kokichi retched. No, it hadn’t been from the stupid animatronic bear, who, mad at everyone from being all lovey-dovey at each other, boomed his first motive.

The group had until the following night at ten to commit a murder, or Monokuma would kill everyone forced to play the game.

That’s not what made Kokichi nearly puke on an empty stomach.

No, it was the smell of something common at most breakfast tables. Kirumi had put on a French press of coffee.

Kokichi hadn’t even had the chance to partake in the massive spread the busy bee had prepared for everyone before he was holding his breath, nearly gagging, running to the warehouse down the hall to escape the smell and hopefully find a trash can.

It didn’t help that his hand was on fucking fire again.

Then it hit him. The funeral incense. There was an electric burner right next to the sticks he’d seen yesterday. Monokuma probably put that shit in there so the survivors after a murder could hold a service if they wanted. He wouldn’t allow it. He’d stuff that burner full and hopefully burn out the scent from his brain.

Who the hell hates the smell of coffee  **_that_ ** much anyway?

Swallowing his own bile, he skidded into the far back corner of the warehouse, yanked the burner off the shelf, flicked it on- it even had batteries installed- and dropped in two sticks. The relief was almost immediate, as the cloying smell calmed him down.

Kokichi slumped against the shelf, before relaxing completely on the shock blanket they’d never cleaned up the day before. It was as if his whole body was going limp, but he didn't mind. It was preferable to nearly puking water and bile since he hadn’t yet-

The warehouse door slid open with a loud crash.

“OUMA-KUN YOU ASSWIPE!” boomed a woman’s angry voice. Iruma Miu. The pink inventor chick with a foul mouth a mile wide.

“Gonta just want to know if small friend is here,” another voice said, quietly. The giant brute. Gokuhara Gonta, the massive ogre of an entomologist.

“Back corner,” Kokichi said wearily. He didn’t have time to deal with an army chasing after him for missing breakfast.

In an instant, the two of them were in his section, Miu’s hands on her hips, looking like she was about to bite Kokichi’s head off.

“Ohhhh, the lil’ shit’s just trippin’ out. Share, you bastard, or I’m telling.”

“It-” Kokichi started, before stopping himself, reaching into the box of incense with his right arm, to grab a few sticks to show them what he was doing.

He didn’t have any control of his hand. Maybe he’d gotten a little too relax-

His fingers twitched on their own, then grabbed a fistful of the sticks. Kokichi frowned slightly, but pulled his hand out of the shelf, holding them.

“What, you old geezer? Shit’s just incense. This is bullshit.”

Kokichi’s right hand rolled the sticks around until it was pointing them at Miu. “I demand my breakfast is brought in here. Supreme leader orders.”

“I’m not dealing with this prick,” Miu said with a huff, her knee-high boots clicking angrily on the flooring as she stormed back out.

“Gonta will bring you some food,” the giant said.

“No. Coffee,” Kokichi demanded with a hiss.

“Food, no coffee,” Gonta repeated aloud, nodding, and left quietly.

His right hand made a jerking motion, and Kokichi moved it back over the box of incense. Carefully, it deposited the sticks, rolling them one by one, back into the box. When Kokichi felt his hand empty, he lifted his arm back out and looked straight at his hand.

It waved at him.

Kokichi shrieked.

* * *

Kokichi didn’t even have a moment to breathe before he was awash in bliss. Once his heart rate calmed, the emotion faded away as quickly as it came. The ghost could mess with his hand, and his emotions, it seemed, but it wasn’t actually talk…

The ghost was clicking his middle finger and thumb together. For a moment, he considered it a nervous tic, but he quickly realized it was too methodical. It was trying to communicate.

Wabun, perhaps? Not that Kokichi knew it- other than it existed. It was clear the ghost wasn’t doing anything malicious, yet, so after a few moments, when whatever was possessing his hand wasn’t getting through, it mimed holding a pen and drawing best it could.

Gonta came back with his breakfast, and Kokichi’s face fell.  How was he supposed to explain that using that incense caused you to be possessed by a ghost with oddly specific rules?

“Food, no coffee.” Gonta said, kneeling to sit next to the purple-haired boy. “You looked like you about to throw up. Better?”

“Like you’d care,” Kokichi replied sourly, holding out his right arm, trying to think how he would eat, before his hand grabbed the chopsticks on its own.

Kokichi took the bowl of rice in his left, and moved his arm above the rice. His hand deftly picked up a chopsticks’ worth of food, and he lifted his arm to his mouth. He blew on it, and opened, and the ghost fed him.

Kokichi blinked. Well, that wasn’t creepy at  **_all_ ** .

“Whatever you do,” Kokichi said, his mouth full of food, and his possessed hand pointing with the chopsticks like he would have done. “Just don’t use the incense.”

“It smell nice… oh. You use like medicine. Gonta let others know it only for stopping nausea. Small robot friend did mention there not much medicine here. Maybe he not look hard enough. Plants and other natural stuff good medicine too.”

“…something like that.” Kokichi said, as he worked with his mystery ghost to eat his food.

* * *

Kokichi grabbed a sketchbook and package of colored pencils on his way out, thinking about the time limit in the back of his mind. First, he needed to get the dishes back to the dining hall, and then he needed to find somewhere quiet to go talk to his little friend stealing his hand and heart.

* * *

Kokichi kicked off his shoes, flopping on the bed. His ghost pulled out a purple pencil, and began drawing in the sketchbook. At first, he just doodled, drawing a cruddy, but extremely recognizable picture of Kokichi and his nine members of DICE.

The ghost had his attention before, but now… it was clear that this ghost knew  **_something_ ** . Something it didn’t want to just write.

Then it flipped the page, Kokichi helping the ghost tuck the drawing behind the cover. And it started drawing cyphers. ROT13, Pigpen, the Dancing Men.

One thing that stood out on the random scribblings, though, was the listing for American Morse.

So, Kokichi was close. He looked down at the Morse markers and clicked his fingers together like the ghost had done before.

‘ **_Hello_ ** ,’ Kokichi tapped, memorizing the Morse translation off the sheet in moments, as though he’d known it before.

‘ **_Hi Ko_ ** ,’ it replied. ‘ **_Took you long enough. Put your arm down, it's more discreet_ ** .’

Kokichi sat dumbstruck for a full minute, then lowered his right arm.

* * *

‘ **_So, there’s cameras in here too_ ** ?’ Kokichi asked, alternating between sketching and tapping to not tip off to the people his ghost- who called himself Daisuke- said could see in.

‘ **_Yeah, but I don’t know the line of sight. Better safe than brainwashed again. Oh, there’s a brainwashing trigger in one of the drawers. You used it after your bath. That’s why there wasn’t a mirror in the bathroom until you did. You’re wearing colored contacts_ ** .’

‘ **_This is nuts. How the hell do I even believe you_ ** ?’

“ **_I can start naming the people in the sketch if you want_ ** .’

‘ **_All that tells me is you’re able to read my mind_ ** .’

‘ **_Can’t actually, and you can’t read mine. The only info we can pass back and forth that way is we can empathize. Remember how when you freaked out you suddenly felt really happy? That was me. I can help control your emotions, but that’s it_ ** .’

‘ **_Prove to me we’re just on a gameshow of death_ ** .’

‘ **_That’s easy. If we can keep anyone from killing anyone by tomorrow night. Remember Monokuma’s exact words. Only those forced into the killing game. We’re all here willingly, so he can’t kill anyone. Except maybe K1-b0, I don’t know how that would work. But K1-b0’s terminal is literally on the other side of this dome, he’ll be fine if he’s murdered. The rest of us though…_ ** ’

‘ **_The flying fu- why? Why would you willingly do this_ ** ?’ Kokichi looked agitated, picking up the pink pencil and scribbled aimlessly on a clean page.

‘ **_We’re test subjects. They’re using the research to help people. I have a friend who survived last season, she was being treated for suicidal ideation and post sexual assault trauma. It seemed like it helped her a lot_ ** .’

‘ **_So, what’s wrong with you_ ** ?’ Kokichi replied, as he started drawing Momo for some reason. ‘ **_We in for dissociative identity or something? There more personalities in here I need to know about_ ** ?’

‘ **_No, everyone’s personalities you see are totally fake… you included. You’re borrowing my body Ko, not the other way around. I can take over completely if I really tried_ ** .’

Kokichi dropped the pencil on the bed and swallowed hard.

‘ **_Why do you think your memory is shit, Ko? You were made two weeks ago_ ** .’

‘ **_Okay, being monitored, I can believe. This being a gameshow, even that makes sense. Sick sense, but this shit being televised… I can see that. Telling me I’m manufactured, though… you’ve gotta give me proof_ ** .’

‘ **_Tonight, then, after the nighttime announcement. Walk to the school. Only the gym and cafeteria are locked, but I want to show you something in the main hall. At least I hope I can_ ** .’

‘ **_Your ass is riding on that, Daisuke_ ** .’

‘ **_If it doesn’t work, I’ll just take over, trigger the light in the bathroom, and give you my body back_ ** ,’ Daisuke tapped, hesitating a moment.

‘ **_Why don’t you just take over in general? You keep insisting you can, so do it._ ** ’

‘ **_I’m a shit actor, and I’m not as smart as you. They gave me someone brilliant, and cunning, and everything I wish I were. I’m…’_ ** his hand paused.  **_‘I’m nobody special, Ko. Just some normie kid with no life and no family_ ** .’

* * *

‘ **_Okay, so what’s the big secret_ ** ?’ Kokichi looked around the empty school entranceway, shuffling. The place was eerie at night and he nervously reached up to bite his nails before stopping himself.

‘ **_One. My nails, not yours. Two, they naaaasty right now. The Dangan staff covered them in something gross to keep you from biting. Three, go to the monitor right by the exit_ ** .’

Kokichi did, and looked around at it.

‘ **_Nothing weird here_ ** .’

‘ **_You can actually unplug this one, though, from the monitor side. It doesn’t turn off the monitor, though_ ** …’

Kokichi pulled sharply on the plug in the back of the monitor, releasing with a hiss and click. He heard the sounds of clicking tile, and turned around.

The entryway tiles began to move, revealing a hidden set of stairs.

Daisuke tapped out, as smugly as he was able, ‘ **_Welcome to your set, Ouma Kokichi, Ultimate Troll_ ** .’

* * *

Cautiously, Kokichi descended the stairs and followed the brazier lit corridor.

‘ **_Um, isn’t it obvious we are where we shouldn’t be? They gonna brainwash me again_ ** ?’

‘ **_They showed this to you before brainwashing. It’s possible they wanted you to remember and find it. If we have hidden lights in our bathrooms, and we probably have them at the entrances to our dorms too, I’d think they’d hide them all over in general._ ** ’

‘ **_So, if they thought I was going off script, they would have corrected it already_ ** .’

‘ **_I can’t guarantee that, but it wouldn’t surprise me at all. I think you finding this on your own was basically the point, if by accident, or more specifically, memory. Especially given… why I’m here._ ** ’

‘ **_You didn’t tell me that before. So, Mister Disembodied- oh_ ** .’

Kokichi stopped and stared.

“Holy shit.”

Of course, he ran straight for the swivel chair, holding out his right arm to grab as he swiveled. Daisuke caught the motion, and helped the two of them into the chair, Kokichi laughing maniacally.

“Now what do these buttons dooooooooo…” Kokichi said aloud, flicking the terminal before him to life. Cameras started flicking on, one by one. “It’s every camera in this forsaken hellhole…”

‘ **_It looks like Shu’s and Kore’s didn't turn on_ ** ,’ Daisuke commented. ‘ **_And Miu’s in her lab, tinkering away_ ** .’

‘Who?’

“ **_Shuichi. Saihara Shuichi. The meek detective? Kore would be Korekiyo, Shinguji Korekiyo. The guy with the black hair and the mask. Bit creepy_ ** .’

‘ ** _Oh. They’re probably jacking off, sleeping naked, or_** **_both_** ,’ Kokichi replied nonchalantly.

‘ **_That’s… actually, I think it’s because Kore’s host is bald, so we’d see him without his wig and… Shu’s host is a girl._ ** ’

Kokichi froze. Daisuke was feeding him so much… it was hard to think he’d lie. At the very least, Kokichi was good at spotting a liar, and even with just the tapping of fingers, he could tell the other both knew what he was talking about and genuinely seemed to want to help. If Daisuke could really take over whenever he wanted, but was choosing not to, he was putting a lot of trust in Kokichi- trust he wasn’t sure he’d earned.

**_‘So, now, two things- one, they’re not going to give us feeds if someone’s doing something… we aren’t meant to see_ ** ,’ Daisuke said, hesitating on the phrase. ‘ **_I mean, we even have the bathroom feeds. Looks like the angle is to… uh, minimize seeing stuff to begin with. Like I said, it's a psyche experiment, they’re not trying to, you know…_ ** ’

‘ **_Well, now I know exactly how to angle myself so they get a nice good eyeful._ ** ’

‘ **_I’ll end you, Ko_ ** .’

‘ **_I’m guessing_ ** ,’ Kokichi said, changing the subject as he lazily looked through the feeds, cycling what was on the largest central monitor, ‘ **_your number 2 is that we now know where to be to avoid detection. That’s assuming this is every single camera they have. You know what they say about assuming_ ** .’

‘ **_Makes an ass out of you and me_ ** .’

‘ **_So now, how do we get back down here without leaving the front door wide open? Oh, wait_ ** …’

Kokichi reached out with his right arm, before realizing that he wouldn’t be able to flick the switch. Before he could stretch to cross over it with his left, Daisuke took the hint and flicked it for him. Kokichi had to just trust his disembodied hand to follow his lead.

The loose monitor plug snaked back into the monitor in the hallway, and the tile shifted to normal. Daisuke flicked it again, and the setup re-opened the door.

So, there it was. Kokichi had a great view of the whole school, and a private space to do it from. Equally fitting for both a Supreme Leader and a Supreme Prankster, he supposed.

‘ **_Let’s get some rest,_ ** ’ Daisuke commented. ‘ **_We can come back here tomorrow after breakfast and figure out how to keep people from murdering each other after a good night’s sleep._ ** ’

‘ **_And you don't think someone’s going to kill someone else in their bed_ ** ?’

‘ **_There’s one rule you’re not aware of. The organizers have made sure of it. No murder takes place in a bedroom_ ** .’

‘ **_Do they just like, brainwash you if you try_ ** ?’

‘ **_That’s my guess, but it could be any number of ways. Either way, right now, everyone except K1-b0, Miu and us are in their rooms, asleep, and K1-b0 is literally immobile in his charger. Which means, everyone is safe if we’re in ours. Nobody can kill Miu unless they leave their room, and Miu has no possible target if we go home. Get some sleep, Ko. You’re tired and stressed_ ** .’

‘ **_I… fine_ ** .’

‘ **_You’re also going to want to take out your contacts before you sleep. Even if you don’t realize they’re in. It’ll trigger the light and mirror in your bathroom, and then your hand will hurt. And then I’ll be right back with you. I’m telling you this now because it resets you a bit and I want to know- if you know about it this early will you remember once it’s over_ ** ?’

‘ **_I thought you wanted me in charge because I’m the smart one_ ** .’

‘ **_I’m just muling your own information back to you. Anything new, though… that’s on you, Ko. I’m trusting you with both our lives_ ** .’

‘ **_Yeeeeaaaah, good luck with that_ ** .’

* * *

‘ **_So, uh, Daisuke_ ** ,’

‘ **_Just call me Dai, its faster_ ** ,’ Daisuke tapped back as they stretched out in bed.

‘ **_Dai. Um… What do you, we, actually look like? I can’t see anything right now_ ** .  **_Your eyesight is shit._ ** ’

‘ **_I usually wear glasses. Brown eyes, black hair, messy. Oh, and you put on foundation in the mornings. I’m not that pale. We look… a little older than you do when you’re in full face_ ** .’

‘ **_Oh_ ** .’

Kokichi paused.

‘ **_I really am fake, aren’t I_ ** ?’

‘ **_You’re real right now, Ko._ ** ’

‘ **_So, DICE_ ** ?’

“ **_A mix of some of my actual friends, game staff members, and a few former survivors. Think hard about the one with the blonde-green hair. Remind you of a certain kid with a lot of piercings_ ** ?’

More silence.

‘ **_My parents_ ** ?’

‘ **_Dunno who they repurposed as your dad, your mom’s Toki, the woman who wrote you. Also a former contestant_ ** .’

‘ **_Geez, Dai, you don’t even know how to tell a kind lie, do you_ ** ?’

‘ **_Never liked lying_ ** .’

‘ **_And they gave you me_ ** .’

‘ **_Go to sleep Ko_ ** .’

‘ **_Or what, you’ll make me feel happy again Oh no- oh shit. Really? That’s the game you’re going to play_ ** ?’

Kokichi’s face was flush and burning up. Did Daisuke really have to… do that to him?

‘ **_So, who’s your girlfriend then_ ** ?’ Kokichi asked, a bit ragged as he tried to ignore emotions he didn’t have control over.

‘ **_Shuichi’s host_ ** ,’ Daisuke tapped nonchalantly. ‘ **_Now I’m going to stop, and you’re going to sleep, or the next thing you know you’re going to need the bathroom. And which one of us is controlling our dominant hand_ ** ?’

‘ **_I hate you_ ** ,’ Kokichi tapped back, smooshing one of the pillows over his head when he finished tapping the sentiment. ‘ **_I’ll behave, I promise. Now stop blueballing me and let me sleep_ ** .’

Daisuke must have released his emotional hostage-hold, because Kokichi relaxed immediately.

‘ **_Sleep_ ** ,’ Daisuke demanded. Kokichi smirked.

Well, at least this wouldn’t be boring.

* * *

The next morning, Kokichi absconded with an entire tray of Kirumi’s croissants, and when everyone dispersed after breakfast, he opened the basement steps, snuck inside, ran to the terminal, activated the trigger to close up the stairs, and breathed a sigh of relief.

“So, now, lesse, what’s on channel six? Sports? Drama? Comedy?” Kokichi smirked and narrated out loud, legs kicked up on the console, the tray of croissants on his lap and one in his left hand, with the camera remote in Daisuke’s possession. He chewed with his mouth open, laughing aloud as Daisuke flipped through to see what everyone else was up to. He figured he could narrate out loud without worries, given how Daisuke told him his theatrics would be well received. And it was a lot faster and less annoying than furiously tapping at his leg.

“First up, we have a tired pink whore handing over some cheap disposable cameras to Preppy in Pink and Dicktective DoLittle, on channel three… and panning to seven, we see the adorably gross couple planning Baby’s First Stakeout! Awwww, how cuuuuuuute! Shuichi and Kaede sittin’ in a tree, kay ai ess ess ai en gee!

Jumping over to nine, we’re back to the tired whore, who looks like she’s going to start our first soap opera drama of the season with Discount Astro Boy! Oh, come on, is he just lulling her to sleep? Laaaaaaaaaame… Nobody’s planning aaaaaanything fun! Maybe I should stop narrating and start seeing how I can mess with everyone…”

Kokichi polished off the last of the croissant in his hand, deposited the tray off to the side, and kicked the console to spin his chair around. It seemed like, for the time being, people weren’t being driven to kill each other. Maybe if he fished around, he could find something else actually useful in the room to be a bit more proactive.

* * *

‘ **_Hope’s Peak_ ** ?’ Kokichi tapped, a massive tome on his lap as he searched through the shelf underneath the DICE masks on display.

‘ **_The old video games this show was based on_ ** .’

‘ **_Useless then. Question: what are you in here for, anyway? Been distracted every time_ ** .’

‘ **_See if I can overpower you_ ** .’

Kokichi barked a laugh. ‘ **_Why aren’t you then_ ** ?’

‘ **_There’s a mastermind in play. One of the sixteen of us also knows it's a televised game, and they have to keep the game on script. Not that we have one, but they’re supposed to hand out motives, keep people scared and on their toes. They’d make us a target in an instant_ ** .’

‘ **_And you don’t know who it is_ ** .’

‘ **_Well, I know it isn’t us. Or Shu_ ** .’

‘ **_Because she’s your giiiiirlfriiiend_ ** ?’

‘ **_Shu is a boy. His host a girl. And no. Because his host told me so_ ** .’

‘ **_Not even going to ask how that works, but I’m assuming you believed her_ ** ?  **_Hell of a lot of trust, you've got_ ** .’

‘ **_She had no reason to lie out of the game, knowing we'd both be brainwashed. And it works the same way that you have parents and lockpicking skills and I’m a comics nut_ ** .’

‘ **_Whatever you say, Boss. Feed me_ ** .’

Kokichi reached out his arm to the now dwindling tray of croissants, they’d been in the room tearing it apart nearly all day. Daisuke grabbed an almond one, and just as Kokichi was about to bring hand to mouth….

Every screen cut to a looping, noisy animation, counting down to 10 PM.

“Hooooo, guuuuurl, you gettin’ deeeeesparate, Monokuma chaaaaaaan,” Kokichi sang out. “Cutting off my feeds, you naughty little third-rate Doraemon.”

“Callin’ me what now?” Kokichi turned around, to see the teddy standing behind him. Kokichi gritted his teeth to steel himself.

“Sorry, more like fifth rate. I think your stitching’s coming loose.”

“I have my eye on you, Horse-Boy,” Monokuma said, wagging an arm. “Your antisocial tendencies are going to be the death of you. Or someone, at least. Might wanna make yourself scarce.”

“How come?” Kokichi asked slyly, shoving the Hope’s Peak book haphazardly on the shelf and collecting up the scattered papers.

“No reason.”

The bear walked away, grinning, before the horrifically annoying timer animation stopped dead silent.

“Oh no.”

“A body has been discovered. Please come to the basement library. A body has been discovered. All students, to the basement library.” The announcement looped twice, and then all Kokichi’s feeds resumed. Rantaro was facedown, a small pool of blood and a shot-put ball on the floor nearby, in the library.

The specific room Kaede and Shuichi had decided to stake out in.

“Fuck.”

* * *

CHARACTER Name  AMAMI         Rantaro

SUBJECT Name      ARUKAWA   Sora

SUBJECT ID           53-01 (see additional IDs 51-11, 52-01)

CHARACTER Skill      SURVIVOR (previously SURVIVOR, TRAVEL WRITER)

METHOD OF INDUCTION: Memory light C.128-2 (See attached usage schedule), switched to C.128-4, and later C.128-6 for subsequent seasons

REASON FOR STUDY: Anxiety, severe agoraphobia (additionally, prolonged use of memory light C.128)

NOTES: ARUKAWA grew up with love, but little access to peers his own age. He developed attachment issues and severe agoraphobia. At his own request, he was entered into Season 51 to treat anxiety through outgoing and friendly AMAMI. Post season exit interviews reveal the treatment works extremely well, see prior cases 19-03, 22-15, 36-12, 37-13, 42-03, 46-10, 49-04 for examples of anxiety treatment refinement.

C.128 alone, without the addition of false memories and personae is ready for general testing as an anti-anxiety treatment in preteens and teenagers, and should be tried double blind against standard medication and placebo (recommend all subjects to receive light time, with only a third receiving C.128 while two thirds get normal fluorescent lights, all three sets of groups with medicine, sugar pills for placebo and C.128 group).

Additionally: Prolonged used of C.128 shows no detrimental effects on developing brain of subject ARUKAWA/AMAMI, as seen by previous subjects who have survived a season (or more) under other memory lights, see 12-01, 15-01, 21-01, et al marked SURVIVOR.

[Survivor ID will always end in -01 (note, -01 assigned randomly if no survivor in season).]

TEST TERMINATED: Death of character (blunt force trauma to skull)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh. That's an... unusual name, don't you think?


	29. Flipside- The Pool of Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING WARNING WARNING
> 
> THIS chapter is the reason for the bump to M.
> 
> Massive trigger warning for sexual assault (its offscreen and implied, but I prefer to be on the safe side)
> 
> Thank you.

_Some time earlier…_

Arukawa sat at her desk, looking over paperwork, typing on her computer with one hand, and scrolling through her tablet with the other.

Three raps on the door.

“Come in,” she called out, keeping an eye on a few of her charges by flicking through the facility cameras.

“I’m done,” K1-b0 said, a little shakily, adjusting his tie. He smelled strongly of rubbing alcohol, and his hair was wet. He must have just been cleaned.

Arukawa put down her table, looking alarmed. “K1-b0, please. Sit. You… do you want to talk?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied.

“That’s a start, at least.”

“I… I am not sure I wish to go through with… with **_this_ ** ,” he finally replied, sitting on a rolling chair and occupying himself by looking down, rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet, playing with the hem of his vest with one hand and his tie with the other.

“You’re welcome to back out at any point, K1-b0.”

“Even now? I thought once we signed our-”

“Have **_you_ ** signed a contract K1-b0?”

“Technically I’m property, so, no, but…”

Arukawa repeated herself, a little louder. “Did **_you_ ** sign a contract K1-b0?”

“ **_Of course I didn’t_ **! Would you ask a phone if it could please make a phone call for you?” K1-b0 shrunk further in his chair. “I- that outburst was unbecoming of me. I am truly sorry.”

“You’re not sorry,” Arukawa replied quietly. “You’re angry.”

“You’re **_damn right I’m angry_ **!” K1-b0 cried out, before realizing he’d cursed aloud, slinking.

Arukawa stood up, pulling a chair around to sit next to K1-b0. “Good. Now tell me exactly **_why_ **.”

K1-b0 took a moment to compose himself. “Two things. First, I… I remembered something today.”

“What did you remember?”

“I am missing about six months of memories. From six months ago to about a year ago.”

“That’s when…” Arukawa started, before trailing off.

“When I **_actually_ ** first came here. I… I can’t remember much but… I didn’t move into my chassis four months ago. I had one a year ago, too, didn’t I?”

Silence. Arukawa shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“Ren didn’t talk with you about what happened, did he?”

“Ren… you mean the Professor, no? One of my student wardens is Ren as well.”

“The grad student with a red streak in his hair? No, not him. Iidabashi.”

“Was… was there an accident? Like when I nearly… I nearly…” K1-b0 said with a stutter as his audio processors temporarily failed him. “When I nearly broke Mori-chan’s neck after I fell on her? What did I do that was so bad they had to wipe my memory?”

“It… it wasn’t something **_you_ ** did, K1-b0. You didn’t exist yet. I mean, you were a three-year-old AI, but you weren’t an android. Not yet.”

“Huh? You mean, something that happened to my **_base_ ** AI before I was refined? To Katherine-Bonnie?”

“Yes. As far as I know, you were still just a computer program back then, at least that’s how Iidabashi- I am sorry, but he’s Ren to me, I hope you don’t mind- how Ren explained it to me.”

“Daisuke-kun did mention I had some alternate partitions on the terminal before he was overwritten by the memory lights,” K1-b0 replied. “But I’m less sure.”

“Oh, no, you have about seven or eight variants.”

“No, no, I’m aware of that, I demanded that Toshiro-kun  unlock it for me so I could see my twins myself. That’s… not the issue. Can… can you tell me about this other AI?”

“Her name was Tabi. Hold on, I have a photograph.”

Arukawa got up from her seat and rummaged through a drawer, pulling out a small framed photo in a stand, passing it to K1-b0. Four people- or three and an android, depending on what counted as people- were together, smiling. In the back left was Arukawa, in her usual getup of lab coat, one heeled foot peeking out from behind the shy but smiling brown-haired teenager in front of her, biting his thumb in the photo as he looked shyly at the camera. To Arukawa’s left, or the photo’s right, was Iidabashi smiling with his mouth shut, holding the handles of a wheelchair.

And sitting in that wheelchair was an android. She was feminine, but stocky, with nearly- or possibly exactly- the same body type as K1-b0, about 160 cm, he guessed, with her sitting in the chair, in white stockings, a poofy blue petticoat dress, and patent leather shoes. She had blonde hair to her back, with bangs, and a slight embarrassed blush graced her face.

K1-b0 was reminded vaguely of Alice from the children’s story Iidabashi had once given him. Not vaguely, he mentally corrected, as he looked at the robot in the wheelchair with a shy smile on her white plastic face. **_Exactly_ **.

What interested K1-bo the most was the exquisite gear patterns of bronze down her exposed arms, an intricate design of clockwork and watch-faces that would suit an animatronic Alice quite well. He even thought he made out a stylized rabbit in a waistcoat, cut off near the capsleeve on her right arm. The designs probably covered her whole chassis like a work of art.

K1-b0 looked down at his own exposed arms, the sleeves of his button-down rolled up to his elbows. Nothing but utilitarian silver steel composite, the pieces and plates perfectly machined, but bare of anything as beautiful as the designs on his… sister? mother? K1-b0 wasn’t quite sure how their AI branched apart from each other.

“Did… did she break? What happened to her?” K1-b0 asked curiously, as he shifted his focus and pointed to the teenage boy. “And this. **_This_ ** is the other thing that upset me. This is your son, Sora. Or, as he’s been known for almost a year at this point… Rantaro.”

“You said two things upset you… **_before_ ** you saw this photo,” Arukawa articulated slowly. “Did you overhear my staff talking? Read any of the dossiers? I kept those under lock and key until we made a… until we made Kokichi. I switched to just hiding them well.”

“Neither. I **_remembered_ **.”

“Iidabashi didn't bring **_your_ ** equipment here until six months ago. My son had already finished his first killing game then, and as a sacrifice, he was kept under the influence of the lights. He hasn’t known he’s been Sora in almost a year. Tell me the truth, K1-b0. I’m not going to punish anyone for running their mouth. I can always make memory light adjustments to anyone who might have overheard.”

“That’s what you’re not getting, Professor,” K1-b0 said, irritated. “What happens if you delete something off a hard drive?”

“Well, it’s still technically there, isn't it? Someone competent with computers might be able to recover it. Writing over memory doesn’t completely delete the…” Arukawa stopped, staring at K1-b0, then snatched the photo back from him, looking between the two.

“Fucking hell, I am going to **_murder_ ** that man.”

And with that, Arukawa gripped the photo tighter and stormed out of her office.

* * *

K1-b0 sat dumbfounded.

He’d just wanted to talk to someone other than the robotics team about memories, and if anyone was qualified to speak on the subject, it was the woman running the show. It didn’t surprise him that she’d dragged her own son into this mess, Iidabashi had essentially done the same (though K1-b0’s functional immortality made the dynamic considerably different), though, given her demeanor and interactions with everyone, she probably hadn’t forced the boy.

No, K1-b0 mused, Sora-kun had probably begged **_her_ ** until she finally relented.

In reality, it was his own memories that had been bothering him. While sitting in his charging chair, the rest of the world dead in slumber, he’d gone through his hard drive, cleaning up his storage and moving files between his hard discs. Core items duplicated on every disc in his system, even if it wasted some space, moving trivia to the same singular location so he could better find his day to day knowledge without passing through more bug facts on the way.

That’s when he noticed it. Under, and highly burned, what Gonta spouted to him about butterflies and their own memory retention capabilities, he felt old data that had been deleted.

K1-b0 **_never_ ** deleted his old memories. Even when he’d hurt Mori. He’d locked the details away under password protection, so if he wanted to remember that day he still needed to stop and consider if it was a good idea (considering when K1-b0 remembered something beyond mere pieces of information, it was as if he was diving back into that point in time, everything he saw, heard, felt, and smelled rushing back like a lucid dream), but delete it? **_No_ ** . He **_wanted_ ** it there.

So, when he noticed the deleted memory on the oldest of his drives, he was curious.

The next thing he remembered was sitting in a wheelchair. As it was a memory, K1-b0 resigned himself to feeling everything play out in front of him, his neck only moving when memory-him did so. He could feel his memory-self attempt to move his legs- beyond twitching feet, there wasn’t much. K1-b0 laughed internally. He’d been wheeled around the first month of his time in his chassis, as he just got used to it and they continued to tinker. This memory was just something early-he must have deleted by accident while he was still getting used to actually having a body, he mused.

That was, until he started talking.

“Sora-kun, you can touch them if you want.”

K1-b0 spoke aloud in a quiet, and distinctly feminine, robotic voice. It clearly didn’t sound remotely human like the one Toshiro-kun had designed for him, and it caught K1-b0 by surprise.

He had several voice settings he could switch between, his old one from before Toshiro-kun started working for them in October, that sounded like Iidabashi (and it probably **_was_ ** the same modulation software pitched slightly lower) that he **_hated_ ** , his current, and two others Toshiro-kun had designed, one somewhat male-androgynous and one distinctly feminine. He’d tried out both others, but knew how much Iidabashi disapproved of the female voice.

He was too embarrassed to ever use that one again, and stuck to the masculine voice after messing around talking with that and the more androgynous one. He did **not** enjoy sounding like a baritone Iidabashi, and that voice was binned to a never-used folder that not even the female one went to.

But K1-b0 was talking in a mechanical voice he never remembered he had, and when his neck turned (so **_slowly_ ** , it **_must_ ** have been an early draft), he saw a meek teenager with dark brown hair gingerly reaching out for K1-b0’s arm, holding it his own, turning it to look closely at…

**_Whoa_ **.

K1-b0 saw it too, the art was stunning. Tiny little interlocking gears and springs and playing cards, little bits and bobs, laser etched in bronze and welded on every surface of his chassis. It was like a giant metal tattoo, and the work was insanely detailed.

K1-b0 could feel the boy gripping his forearm, running fingers along the pattern, tracing the gear-teeth with a finger. Memory-K1-b0 shivered reflexively, and giggled aloud a little.

“It tickles,” s/he said. “Dad put in a new sensor yesterday, I have general pressure sensors all over now.”

“How does it work?” the boy asked curiously.

“There’s an electrically charged film in these plates, sandwiched between micro-thin layers of carbon. Um, like the stuff in pencils, a pencil line thin, in a spiderweb-like hexagon pattern.  When someone presses, it constricts the film between these tiny carbon webs, and I register pressure. I can tell the difference between brushing up against something, or being squeezed, like you’re doing now. It’s my version of nerves, basically.”

“Why... would you have something like that?” the boy- **_Sora-kun_ ** \- asked, squeezing K1-b0’s wrist, and fitting his fingers through his- her?- own. “I thought they made you to help the game survivors with their PTSD. Someone **_not_ ** an adult.”

“And non-threatening. It’s so I know my own strength. If I’m hugged, I can return with roughly equal force without thinking about it so much.”

Sora just hummed. “It hurts. Watching everyone when they’re done. But... for most of them, the depression and stuff is pretty temporary, so it’s okay. I think Mom’s research does way more good than harm. She helps a lot of people. You’re going to be moving here soon?”

“I… that's what Dad told me. And a bunch of the students who helped build me, too.”

“Um… Tabi…. san?” Sora pressed his index fingers together, a bit embarrassed. “When Iidabashi-sensei… when your dad sent a photo, I, uh, I thought you were a boy.”

“Oh, I don’t really have a gender or anything. I must have come out of a therapy session for some of the older male cancer patients, a lot of them don’t like talking to girls. Dad or one of the students help me dress in something that puts people at ease.”

“So… you what? Change your hair, and eye color and clothes, and poof, you’re someone else?”

“My voice, too,” ‘Tabi’ replied, sliding effortlessly into the mechanical baritone K1-b0 hated so much.

It was weird, when K1-b0 usually slipped into a memory, he knew exactly what to expect. But here he was, quickly figuring out the Sora boy was someone who lived at the Danganronpa facility, and that his own persona as K1-b0 was probably one of the many hats he wore. So why didn’t he remember this one? It was definitely his body- well, his **_earlier_ ** body, he recognized a lot of the old twitches and tics they’d slowly worked out of him. And he was having a very mild case of synesthesia as he smelled the boy’s shampoo and saw a haze of pink, his face pressed close as the kid poked around.

“You’d fit right in,” the boy said with a laugh. “Everyone here gets made over ‘till they’re not themselves anymore.”

“I’m still myself,” Tabi cut in, switching back to the feminine voice. “I’m just… doing my job. This is what I wear when I’m off the clock, as it were. I like being able to see all the art on my arms. It’s not like I get cold, either. I mean, I am aware when the temperature changes. It just doesn’t affect me the way it does you.”

“Oh.” he said simply, standing upright. K1-b0 realized quickly that the teenager was actually quite tall. He just seemed to… fold in on himself, small and meek, and a bit scared. “You… didn’t need to justify yourself or anything. I was… kinda trying to make a joke, is all.”

“Sorry… I’m still not that great at humor, Sora-kun,” Tabi said, shaking her head a little. “Sarcasm in particular is mostly lost on me, still.”

“Me too…” Sora replied, “so I get it. I… I’ve been asking my mom if she can put me in next season. I’ll be sixteen.”

“Dad won’t let me watch because… because of what the show is about… aren’t you afraid?”

Sora looked down at his feet, shrinking again. “I already am. How much worse could it be?” Silence, and Tabi busied herself with bending forward to adjust her legs in the stirrups of the wheelchair, and smoothing out her dress.

“Hey, Sora-kun. I can’t walk. Could you… maybe take me on a tour? Show me everything.” K1-b0 immediately recognized his, or in this case, **_her_ ** , caretaker side taking over, noticing the boy’s anxiety and giving him a concrete task to take his mind off it. “If I’m living here with you and the rest of the team, I’d like to know my way around.”

And then the visual flickered, screeching to a halt. K1-v0 instinctively shuddered, held in place by the splines on his neck and face in the charger. If K1-b0 needed air to breathe he’d probably have been gasping, but as it were, he merely gripped the chair and steeled himself. K1-b0 stretched his hand out to reach the wall, pressing the call button in the dorm.

“Can… can I have someone to keep me company?” he asked quietly, and meekly.

“Do you need a therapist or a mechanic?” the voice on duty asked.

K1-b0 had been there long enough he was on a first name basis with most of the staff, even if he’d never trekked to this side of the building until the start of the other (the **_human_ ** ) kids' brainwashing.

“I…just want some company, Iemura-san,” K1-b0 replied back.

“Give me a moment, I need to stay on general duty.”

“It isn’t an emergency, sir, I just… I had a bad dream.”

“You dream?” Iemura asked surprised.

“I can dive into my own memories, and I accidentally went into a corrupted file from my earliest days. I am a little shaken,” K1-b0 replied honestly.

“Let me get one of your wards, then. Hold on, it’s late, I’ll see if someone’s awake before I resort to the cowbell.”

“Iemura-san please don’t disturb anyone from-”

“Mori-chan is up, tinkering.”

“Oh, yes, if she’s already awake, I won’t say no to the company. However I am in the boy’s dorms.”

“I’ll make her aware. Sit tight.”

“I literally cannot move right now, Iemura-san, so I will heed your advice.”

* * *

And K1-b0 flexed his fingers, sighing, as he recalled the previous night’s events before chasing after Arukawa.

* * *

“-the flying fuck is wrong with you, you lying little sack of-”

“Hiroko- I… what the…” Iidabashi’s mechanical voice was stuttering, barely able to keep pace.

“You come back from your little symposium and tell me Tabi has a fatal error, so you’re going to back up and try again with another partition of the Katherine-Bonnie AI. **_Bull-fucking-shit._ ** K1-b0 isn’t a new partition, his own hard drive has Tabi’s memories on it. I know you’re not going to just waste money but why the **_HELL_ ** would you use her used hard drives in him? You’re going to tell me **_exactly what happened_ ** or so help me I will bust out one of my own old memory lights and strangle you myself.”

“Tabi did have a fatal error,” Iidabashi said calmly, mostly because the modulator couldn’t really inflect like a human’s voice could. “Part of it was the goddamn symposium’s fault, and a good chunk of it is mine.”

K1-b0 heard a sharp inhale, and used the moment of calm to slip in the conference room where Arukawa was shaking his master down.

Both stopped and stared at him.

“Why don’t both of you act like the adults you are, sit down, and talk this out?” he asked politely, pulling up a chair for himself, before staring at the two of them, eyelid-less eyes unblinking.

“K1-b0,” Arukawa said quietly, before sitting down herself. Iidabashi did the same.

“I can explain,” Iidabashi said, his modulator dipping in volume.

“Then do,” K1-b0 said quietly. “And start with Tabi. Did she and I come from the same offshoot of Katherine-Bonnie, or… or is Arukawa correct, and we are the same?”

“Neither is,” Iidabashi replied, avoiding eye contact. “K1-b0 is what happened after… after Tabi was attacked at the robotics symposium. I had it coming, I make my robot look like a teenage girl and…”

“I… I was attacked?” K1-b0 asked curiously. “I don’t think I could have fought back, I was in a wheelchair.”

“So, you do remember.”

“I was sorting out my memories into my drive caches last night, and came upon a corrupted memory. I let myself relive what was whole enough to review. I think… if I dig, there might be more.”

Iidabashi nodded. “In your defense, you fought back. There was quite a bit of blood in your mouth when I found you, and your neck had been snapped, as were a few fingers.”

“Why would I have blood in my mouth?”

“Do I need to explain that wasn’t the only bodily fluid found?”

K1-b0 and Arukawa sat in silence a moment, before Arukawa blanched. “How absolutely disgusting do people need to be?” she asked.

“If you want to talk disgusting, there were androids built specifically for that purpose there,” Iidabashi replied. “The worst part was… I don’t know exactly who it was, but I’ve narrowed it down to five people. Two are former colleagues. They asked if they could sit and talk with her, of course I agreed. I find her later in an empty conference room, mind a mess and spitting out blood. I didn’t even realize why she had blood in her mouth until… until I helped her clean up later. I am proud of her for biting down as hard as she did, though. My child, through and through. But… in a fit of anger, and fear…”

“You took away those six months of my memories.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Arukawa and K1-b0 stared at him.

“You deleted them yourself, K1-b0. Probably like how you deleted that day. I… in a fit of rage I washed you, changed you into boy’s clothes, and burned your dresses and long-haired wigs, and told you to never, ever use that feminine voice again. I didn’t want anyone doing… doing that again, seeing you as a defenseless teenage girl. I should have just made you a boy to begin with, I don’t know why I didn’t think someone wouldn’t try and take advantage of a cute girl android who couldn’t run away. In the end, I killed Tabi myself. You stared at me, stuttered a while, and then just shut down. Of course, that just sent you back in your terminal, and you started getting destructive, deleting your own files. It… I’d already lost my daughter in a car crash, and my voice the same night, a piece of glass lodged in my throat. I felt like I had nothing left to live for, and took up smoking. Most people assumed the voice was because of lung cancer. It wasn’t,” he said, tears streaming down his face as he tapped the device at his neck. K1-b0 wondered if he should console the man, or kick him. Or both.

“I… I’m rambling. What I did may have been less horrific than what you went through but… well, K1-b0 I don’t expect you to ever forgive me.”

“I expected better of you,” was all K1-b0 could say, before adding one last bite. “I guess it’s only human.”

K1-b0 stood up, placed his hands on the conference table, gently kicked his chair behind him, and began to walk out.

“You’re right, Professor Arukawa, I never signed a contract. But I’d like to.”

* * *

K1-b0 went to the gym and screamed, Toshiro’s audio program failing him, reducing the sound to incomprehensible screeching as the robot couldn’t process a full sentence.

If someone saw what he was doing- of course they saw what he was doing- they weren’t interfering. K1-b0 punched a concrete wall with all his unrestrained force, feeling a shatter all the way to his shoulder. He punched with the other, and let his broken arms fall to his sides, able to control a few errant fingers, but little more. Someone would just patch him up again, and again, and again, and saw off the parts that were inconvenient, that they didn’t want anymore and-

The door slipped open. Of **_course_ **. He’d dealt enough damage. They’d come, turn him off, drag him back to his lab, and fix him. Maybe even delete another few hours of his life, too, while they were at it.

“K1-b0? I knew I heard screaming.”

Rantaro. A surprise.

“It’s three AM, go back to bed,” K1-b0 sulked. Why did he listen to that part of himself- the part that said he had to help others, to comfort them?

“You… you look worse than I do,” Rantaro mused, as he rubbed the crust out of his sleep-deprived eyes. “Was walking to the infirmary to ask for some Ambien. This time, I’m not even stressed. Or I **_wasn't_ **. I am now. Do… do you wanna talk about it?”

K1-b0 wanted to scream that he was **_just like his mother_ ** , but bit his proverbial tongue. “No.”

“My next question would have been if you wanted to sweat it out, but…”

“I do not tire. Or sweat.”

“Was going to say you don’t have any hands to play basketball at the moment, but... soccer. You don’t need them anyway.”

“I’m not playing soccer with you in your state, and my own mind screaming critical error warnings at me every three seconds,” K1-b0 pouted.

“Then I think it’s a fair playing field.”

K1-b0 bowed his head. “Fine, but only because it might actually tire **_you_ ** out. You need to **_sleep_ **.”

* * *

Rantaro panted.

“How? You still thrashed me. I thought you were getting error warnings every few seconds.”

“I was, and am.”

“Then let’s get you back to your lab. What time is it?”

“5:15 AM.”

“Iidabashi is an early riser, he c-”

“ **_Do not finish that sentence_ **.”

“You know, I overheard your conversation with my m-with Aurkawa. Of course I followed you when you chased her from her office. Don’t worry, I know my…well, not me, but my host, is her son. I figured it out before season 52. And since they weren’t specifically overwriting that anymore, just making me forget certain small details… well, I’ve known since. And now since someone is watching the camera in here, well…”

“If you’ve gone through a season knowing that, I doubt they’d go back and paint over it again.”

Rantaro shrugged. “I’m just… tired, you know? I don’t know why I kept saving the masterminds. I just… did. I should have faded off by now. But I guess having someone under for a year is good research in and of itself. I’ve probably had the most exposure of anyone in history, and while I’m… ehhh, I wouldn’t say the most emotionally stable, it’s not that bad, really, and most of my issues come from the game, not the lights.”

“I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you and the rest of everyone.”

“And you, geez. What kind of asshole… what kind of asshole assaults an android? Like, how low do you have to be? That’s… so far in another level than anything I’ve dealt with. I mean… all Sora has is agoraphobia. **_Had_ **. I’m pretty sure I’ve helped.”

“Didn’t he live here his whole life? You’d think he’d have some serious attachment issues…”

“And there comes your caretaker side. But who takes care of you?” Rantaro asked.

“I’ll… I’ll wait until Tohru-kun wakes up. He can probably fix it. It feels like a few support scaffolds snapped, is all. My servos are running fine, they’re just hanging loose in my arm.”

“I don’t know how blunt I need to be. I think you and Iidabashi should talk.”

“He- he… I don't think he actually deleted my memories. I think he was telling the truth. He still… he still emasculated me though, or whatever the opposite of that is, not that I seemed to care what gender I was before. I still don’t.”

“You said you still found them on your old drive, right? Your memories as… what was her name?”

“Tabi, I think?”

“I mean, he could have easily built you a new body, right? Probably a better one with what he learned. And yet, he made sure you had that damaged drive.”

“That’s why I believe him when he said he didn’t delete anything. He could have put in fresh drives, and only uploaded in the segments of my AI he wanted. I would never have known I had a gap, especially if he or the team filled in the blanks themselves with fake memories. He could have done whatever he wanted, but he chose to keep me, a temper-tantrum prone AI and a corrupted drive with things on it that might hate him more.”

“Rather than speculating,” Rantaro replied, leaving it hanging.

“Maybe I should talk with him.” K1-b0 finished the thought. “But you're coming with me or sleeping, those are your two choices.”

Rantaro smirked. “It’s technically morning, I’ll cat nap later.”

* * *

“Professor Iidabashi?” K1-b0 asked nervously.

K1-b0 and Rantaro heard a strained breath. “Lay on your workbench, K1-b0, I’ll get started.” K1-b0 saw him come around from the divider, rolling a cart of supplies. “I think this is the first time you’ve broken yourself of purpose. Don’t make a habit of it.”

K1-b0 noticed Iidabashi’s eyes were bloodshot, and his fingers were twitching irritably. “And you’d better not be smoking, for my sake if not yours,” K1-b0 shot back. “You’ll ruin my sensors.”

“All these years, and yet you still have the nerve to backtalk me,” Iidabashi replied, rolling up a chair, as he pried off K1-b0’s chassis plates. “Well, one thing’s clear, you sure as hell know how to throw a tantrum like a four-year-old.”

“At least one of us is acting our age.”

“Right in the jugular, K1-b0,” Iidabashi replied, clutching at his voicebox.

K1-b0 laughed. “So, this is how we solve this? Black humor? What’s happened, has happened, I suppose. I don’t forgive you for your part in it though.”

“I would have liked that, but I’m not expecting it, K1-b0.”

“Why is my name K1-b0 anyway?” he asked, after prolonged silence. Neither of them really wanted to talk about the last few hours, not directly. “I know it’s for Katherine-Bonnie, K-B, but… you gave Tabi a name.”

“Because you deleted some of your time. At that point, I couldn’t say you were her anymore. The partitions are all digits for their order of split. K2 through K8 share your terminal, here. 9 and 10 are back at Tokyo University. 10’s been publicly named Mirai. Her chassis is almost complete, and then they’re introducing her to the nursing school.”

“Are all of us… female?”

“You’re all genderless, but at some point you all pick pronouns. You don’t like being an ‘it’, you’ve said so yourself.”

Silence.

“Did you want a name?” Iidabashi asked. “You’re long overdue for a public title. I think… I was worried about getting attached and losing you again. You have a mean streak a mile wide when you feel something is unjust.”

“I do throw a legendary tantru- too tight!” K1-b0 cried. “My tactile sensors are being compressed.”

“My thumb is there,” Iidabashi replied snorting a little. “How about now?”

“Oh.” K1-b0 paused. “Call it a cop-out, but… you already don’t actually call me ‘kay one bee zero’. Why not just outright make it ‘hope’, Kibou? It seems like my sisters have wistful names like ‘journey’ and ‘future’.”

“Hope-bot,” Rantaro snorted from the corner.

“Laugh at my kid, Mister Overripe Avocado, and I’ll call in your mother. Don’t think she and I didn’t watch the two of you kick a soccer ball so hard you deflated it.”

“You were waiting to see if you needed to intervene,” Rantaro replied, watching the professor work, closing Kibou’s right shoulder.

“A good parent’s job is to know when to let things go. Unfortunately, I learned that lesson a bit too late.

“Rantaro-kun, I’m done on Kibou’s right; I’m putting you to work. Get a clean rag and some alcohol, and wipe it up. And then, for making me wait until almost 6 am on no sleep, you’re going to polish until you can see your face in it. Hear me? There’s grit and steel wool around here somewhere.”

“You don’t need to-” Kibou started, but Rantaro was already on him, alcohol-soaked rag in one hand, holding the bot’s arm in the other. “Fine.”

“You still planning on signing that contract?” Iidabashi asked, looking back down at his charge. “I don’t think any major decision should ever be made while angry, but I’ll cosign if that's what you want.”

Kibou looked up at Iidabashi. “I’m here for a reason. I should watch over the rest of these kids. Because that’s what we all are. **_Children_ **.”

“You didn’t like...” Iidabashi started, afraid to ask something. “You didn’t like adding a suffix to K1-b0, as it’s an acronym. But now?”

“I’ll take ‘kun’ for now. I think… I think I want to figure out who I am though.”

“For starters, your wig is getting super ratty and gross,” Rantaro said, peeling at one of the edges. “You’re going to need to replace it.”

“Well, I already have a ‘look’, as it were, for the game. Maybe when it’s over I’ll consider some other options,” K1-b0 said with a wry smile. “Professor, no offense, but you have no sense of style yourself.”

“Mori-chan and Tohru-kun helped you with wardrobe,” Iidabashi replied, idly, as he affixed a new L-bracket in Kibou’s upper forearm, unplugging some cables from his servo to thread out the broken one and thread through the new. “You’re lucky if I have a clean shirt.”

“And there’s staff for a reason,” Kibou chided back with a chuckle. “You don’t have to do laundry here if you don’t feel like it. No excuses.”

“Which one of us is the child, again?” Iidabashi asked.

Kibou sighed and relaxed a little on his bench, as Rantaro squeezed his wrist and threaded his fingers between Kibou’s metal ones.

“Why did you not give me a new body?” Kibou finally asked.

“Kibou-kun, I wanted to tell you… tell you someday about what happened. I just didn’t know when, or how, and I felt responsible. I was a coward. So, I left the corrupted drive where it was. If you figured it out on your own, or one of the students who was there at the time- like Mori-chan- decided enough was enough, well, we could try and recover whatever we could. I don’t even know what memories you have are actually salvageable. What did you see?”

“The first time we visited. I was in a wheelchair, dressed like… like Alice, Wonderland Alice.”

“That was my daughter’s favorite book. When she passed, I threw myself into AI research.”

“You wanted to bring her back, in a sense?” Kibou asked curiously.

“At first. Most roboticists, the kind that work in humanlike AI, not the ones who make painting machines or ATMs or gadgets… well, we’re all a bit nuts. Losing her, losing my voice, taking up smoking… I was a broken man. But then, as I continued, and my work was good enough to amass an actual team… I realized the program was ours, not mine. Making a copy of my daughter would be selfish, to both my team, and my dead child, and later, I realized, to even me. We honored her memory instead, with you. All your early forms were famous children’s book characters, for therapy. Alice, Harry Potter, Kudo Shuichi…”

“I was a cosplayer,” Kibou said with a smirk. “Then why the… erm, tattoos?”

“My daughter would always draw patterns like that when she should have been studying. She’d fill a page with a pattern themed after a book, movie, or show she liked. We planned to make your chassis plates easier to swap, and build a few, but they were liable to come loose. So, we just kept the Alice themed one. I… might have pried it off you after what happened. I mean, I need to stop hiding. I **_did_ **. Unfortunately, I can’t exactly give them back, but if you wanted something like it I can call my friend who did the first set. I think you looked better that way. Far harder to clean, but eh, I think it was worth it.” Iidabashi wiped his brow with the back of his greasy jacket sleeve and stretched.

“All right then, better than new. I can’t remember the last time I did this for you.”

“It was… refreshing, talking shop.”

“Kibou-kun, I can’t say if it’ll happen in my lifetime, but I’ll try to do right by you. I can’t promise I will, you get your temper straight from me. But… I’ll try to be a bit more open. I’ve already lost two daughters, and I blame myself both times. Be good to these other kids, and come back safe.” He glared gently to Rantaro-kun dutifully polishing a leg while he waited for Iidabashi to move. “Rantaro-kun, that had better shine when I get back from my shower or I’ll drag you by the ear to your mother myself.”

“After the game is over, can… can I make a list of changes? To my body,” Kibou asked.

“You can make them now, we can all sit and figure out how to help you,” Iidabashi replied. “Ask, and the least I can do is try.”

“I… I want those tattoos. I want to try being other people again, and see what clicks, even if the answer is what I am now. I want to see what memories are on the corrupted drive, even if they’re painful, I think I’m far better equipped to handle them now. And… I want to be able to cry.”

“I think we can manage that, Kibou-kun.”


	30. End of Their Rope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /yawn/
> 
> Apologies for life getting in the way. oh yeah, and Kiibs is finished, too.
> 
> Hopefully back to a normal schedule soon. 31 is already in the works.

Kokichi’s breath stopped.

It had to be fake, right? Daisuke said it was just a show, just a psychology experiment that paid for itself in ad time and merchandising.

Amami Rantaro, the person whom Daisuke said had survived through two other seasons already, couldn’t be dead, right? The first one to die- without a struggle?

And why was the pianist of all people trying to lead the investigation? They had a perfectly good detective **_right there_ **.

‘ **_Check the body_ ** ’, Daisuke ordered.

Kokichi waded through the sea of shocked teens, ignoring everyone. He was too busy messing around in his own hidey hole, and worse, he had no alibi. If this group of nitwits were just going to bicker, he needed to do something.

The first thing Kokichi noticed, trying to keep his emotions in check, was that the bloodstain was… wrong.

Not the one pooling on the floor under the green-blonde teen at his feet. No, the one on the bookshelf. It was about half a meter to the right from where Rantaro fell. Had he… been hit more than once? It wasn’t a clear line, and even he knew liquids wouldn’t spray quite like that based on where the body and shot put ball were on the floor.

Carefully, Kokichi kneeled to check the body in detail, because clearly Daisuke’s not-girlfriend wasn’t doing his damn job. No pulse, no breath, of course. Skin was still warm to the touch but felt a little rubbery… not that he knew when stuff like rigor mortis started to set in, it’s not like he was… oh, say, a **_detective_ ** or something. Someone warned him not to mess with evidence, but he scoffed.

“I don’t think I ever agreed to working in pairs,” he sneered. “I’m just checking the body since all of you are pansies. I mean, in **_my_ ** line of work I’ve seen toooooons of dead people! Can’t be supreme leader without ordering some skulls cracked in, you know? If you in insist on watching, I’m not gonna shoot your eyes out or anything…”

Kokichi left it hanging, and peered over the body, as he watched the stupid pink pianist and her meek detective hang-on interrogate people. Didn’t even have the common sense to separate everyone as they did it.

Kirumi watched Kokichi with bemused interest.

“I know you like cleaning, Tojo-chan,” Kokichi snapped, “But don’t you dare touch this till I’m done with it.”

 **_This_ ** , not **_he_ **. Rantaro was reduced to an object on the floor.

Kokichi squatted, touching Rantaro again. Gummy. Cooling.

He pressed on the flesh, wondering if that’s what a corpse was supposed to feel like, pulling back fingers dripping with a little blood.

Kokichi licked it off and blanched.

That was real blood, all right.

* * *

Kokichi’s heels clicked against the paving stones as he and the other fourteen living students made their way to the fountain.

‘ **_The trial grounds_ ** ,’ Daisuke had told him. ‘ **_And there’s an exit down there to the monitoring facility, but I don’t know how to open it_ **.’

‘ **_Some help that is_ ** ,’ Kokichi irritably tapped as the fountain parted and the stupid pianist made an epic speech. ‘ **_Also, pretty sure Kay did it_ **.’

‘ **_Whoever killed didn’t want the freebie pass_ ** ,’ Daisuke replied. ‘ **_If they’re caught, they’ll die. Why didn’t they take it_ **?’

‘ **_So, you were paying attention_ ** ,’ Kokichi replied as he shifted his weight in the world’s slowest elevator, keeping an eye on the girl in pink still clinging to Detective Shuichi, remembering Monokuma's additional motive for the first murder. ‘ **_If Kuma really does play by the rules, twisted as they are, then his offer of a free first kill, scot free, is real. If I was killing to get out, I’d have taken it. But all Miss Pink rambles on about is finding the mastermind. She’s trying to flush them out, her own life be damned. So she and Ran aren’t the leader either._ ** ’

‘ **_K1-b0?_ ** ’ Daisuke asked as the elevator continued to rumble, Kokichi scanning the rest of the students.

‘ **_Possibly. If his job is to keep an eye on us, he’s either the mastermind or innocent. They wouldn’t incite him to kill because then he’d get killed off himself. Either way, he’s not going to kill someone else, so he’s safe, even if he’s handing out motives. Actually, the probability of him as the mastermind is pretty high in that case_ ** …’

‘ **_So, it’s not us, Kay, Ran, or Shu then_ **?’

‘ **_If your girlfriend is to be believed and Kay is the murderer here, yes. That knocks out a quarter of_ ** -’

The elevator shuddered to a stop, flinging the doors open to a trial ground.

* * *

“…but Gonta not kill Rantaro-kun!”

Kokichi rolled his eyes as the group continued to bicker. Gonta was right- even though he’d have had a clear shot at throwing a shot-put ball at Rantaro, that only applied if the hidden door they'd discovered was shut. With that hidden bookcase door open, thanks to the photos from the cameras Kaede and Shuichi had set, Gonta’s line of sight- and ability to throw- would have been blocked by a two-ton bookcase. Gonta was strong, but he wasn't that strong, and there was no shotput-sized hole or dent in the bookcase to show he threw **_through_ ** it.

Kokichi returned his actual attention to the real mystery at hand.

‘ **_Why do you keep insisting that Shu is a boy when you say his host is a girl_ **?’

‘ **_Why do you keep insisting you’re a master prankster when your host is a bookworm who has no friends? Sorry. Three. No, four, I’m counting K1-b0_ **.’

‘ **_He’s been a dick to me_ **.’

‘ **_Yeah, because you’re a dick to him. I would have slapped you by now_ **.’

“It’s because the bookcase was open…” Shuichi announced meekly, cutting through the current argument on Gonta’s alibi. The giant visibly relaxed as Shuichi walked through his logic, proving his innocence.

‘ **_Thank you Captain Obvious, I figured that out twenty minutes ago. Your girlfriend murdered Ran, holy hell._ ** ’

‘ **_Why are you so bitter and insistent about Shu?_ ** ’

‘ **_Because I’m questioning my sexuality right now_ **.’

‘ **_You know the writers made you like him_ **.’

‘ **_They… what._ ** ’

Daisuke, in the most smug way he could given he could only tap into the crook of Kokichi’s elbow, as the boy stood at his podium arms crossed to hide their conversation, repeated himself. ‘ **_The writers. Made you. Like him. And Ran too, for that matter. And Kii_ **.’

‘ **_Are you telling me I’m gay because I’m written that way?_ ** ’

‘ **_Extremely_ **.’ Daisuke quietly omitted that he had a chance of liking Miu as well. Let Kokichi figure out his feelings for others on his own.

Kokichi blinked, and felt a giant weight lift from his chest.

‘ **_So, you like Shu?_ ** ’ Daisuke finally asked, as he felt Kokichi shift his weight on the podium, suddenly extremely interested in the bickering around them.

‘ **_I dunno. But I feel a lot better knowing… it's okay if I do_ **.’

* * *

Kokichi hovered his right arm over the keypad, essentially forcing Daisuke to be the one to stretch his finger to seal one of the teen’s fates, voting for the culprit. Either Daisuke pressed the button or Monokuma would kill them for failing to choose; Kokichi kept his left hand squarely tucked away under his opposing armpit. Daisuke was the one who chose to be here, not Kokichi- he'd have to be the one that lived with the consequences of his actions.

Daisuke wavered for a moment, then pressed the photo of the pink pianist Kaede.

There couldn’t have been anyone else who killed the poor survivor. And now Kokichi knew; hiding and observing in his lab meant nothing. He had to be more proactive or they’d be pressing that button again.

* * *

Kaede screamed as the device clamped on her neck, dragging her to an oversized piano.

There was no denying it as he watched in horror as the girl was repeatedly strangled and hung over the massive instrument until she passed out, the spiked lid of the torture device finally clamping shut after it used her body to poorly press the ivories, blood squirting from the lid as she was crushed under it.

Rantaro was dead.

Kaede was dead.

This game was real.

And Kokichi felt like it was partially- mostly- completely- his fault.

* * *

‘ **_Go to Kii_ ** ,’ Daisuke tapped. ‘ **_You said it yourself, he can’t kill. Either he's the mastermind, and has to last to the end, or an innocent. They wouldn’t make their caretaker a murderer. He’s safe._ ** ’

Kokichi, labored breaths and bloodshot eyes as he clutched his covers in cold sweat, sighed, and shakily evicted himself from his bed. He couldn’t sleep. Or focus, and had already thrown up twice. The voice from his hand, in so much as a form of communication, continued to prod.

‘ **_You wouldn’t wake him. He doesn’t sleep. He’s literally next door._ ** ’

Kokichi sighed, and shuffled, sticking his room key in his pajama pocket. Daisuke probably wouldn’t shut up until he fell asleep or complied. Kokichi almost felt sorry for the ghost in his hand, before remembering the keypress from that afternoon.

A sick experiment, a sick joke, and it wasn't even his choice to participate.

Shakily, he turned his doorknob, and was face to face with white plastic and a blank blue-eyed stare.

“I am so sorry!” K1-b0 exclaimed.

Kokichi immediately snapped into an irritated persona. Maybe acting would help. “Oh, coming around to murder at midnight are we?”

“It is currently 2:17 AM,” K1-b0 replied, hands on his hips, annoyed. “And I was… coming to ask for help. I did not know if I should wake you, however, and have been standing outside your door for the past thirty-nine minutes.”

“Oh, so I have a robot lover! Oh wait, no, robots can’t love,” Kokichi replied with a grin, masking his exhaustion and fear.

‘ **_I know what you’re doing, but you have nobody to act for, Ko, just help the poor bot_ ** ,’ Daisuke ticked irritably. ‘ **_We’re both tired and you know it_ **.’

“I knew this was a bad idea…” K1-b0 replied, twiddling his thumbs as he looked down at the floor. “Perhaps if I ask Miu-chan tomorrow she might be able to assist…”

“Normally I’d charge you to help, but you weren’t a complete waste of air in the trial today,” Kokichi replied, softening his stance. “But you’ll owe me.”

K1-b0 visibly relaxed. “I do not, however, have funds of my own.”

“I didn't mean money. I meant a favor. It’s boiling in here and my thermostat is broken. Your room was cold when we first went exploring. You don’t sleep, do you? You’re just a machine. I’m taking your bed tonight in exchange.”

“I-” K1-b0 started, then stopped as he looked at how bleary Kokichi was under his demeanor. “Fine. But you must be out before the morning announcement. Come with me.”

* * *

“You want me to undress you? Perv. I bet you’re recording all of this too, wouldn’t your eyes be cameras?”

“I do not have reproductive organs, Kokichi-kun.” Kokichi noted he wasn’t arguing about his eyes, however. Not that it mattered. Kokichi now knew there were cameras everywhere.

“So, you’re actually wearing clothing? Weird. I figured this was just… you.” Kokichi pulled on the black fabric between the plates.

“That’s robophobic!”

‘ **_That’a a terrible catchphrase they gave you_ ** ,’ Daisuke tapped irritably, as he watched K1-b0 unplug his collar out of his neck.

Kokichi stared for a solid minute as K1-b0 began to remove what he could of his own clothing, directing Kokichi to help with the spinal clamp he couldn't reach. Daisuke seemed to know what he was doing, separating plates and clamps before K1-b0 could say anything.

"I told you I know my way around robots," Kokichi scoffed, flopping on the bed once K1-b0 had wriggled free, looking very much more like there couldn't have been a living person in a costume in there. K1-b0 nodded quietly, flexing his fingers, free of their gloves, and rummaged for a rag and some alcohol.

"I'm not going to ask for an internal cleaning... maybe I'll do it at a later date, but I would appreciate some help with a surface cleaning. My plates dirty quite easily, given the crevices." He poured some alcohol onto a clean white washcloth and held it out, a little nervously.

Kokichi snorted, holding out his right arm so Daisuke could snatch up the rag. "You called me in here to give you a bath? What are you, a toddler?"

"...essentially," K1-b0 admitted, looking sheepishly at the floor, at his own bare metallic feet.

"Next time, bother the resident babysitter," Kokichi joked, but patted the edge of the bed. "Sit. I've already got proof you don't have a dick and it's making me... it's making me... super duper saaaaad," he added, faking crocodile tears.

K1-b0 just shook his head and sat down, as Daisuke began slowly scrubbing the rag down into the little cracks between K1-b0's ornate gear-patterned filigree. Kokichi traced a finger down the gears and pocket watches welded on in bronze, until K-b0 shuddered under his touch. Kokichi’s face reddened, as he decided to just hold on to K1-b0’s left shoulder for stability as the two of them absentmindedly got to work.

"You're right, this is stupidly hard to clean. Why'd your creator make you like this? Nobody would even see all this art." Kokichi asked, after twenty or so solid minutes of cleaning the dust out of the cracks in the patterns on his chassis.

"I... wish I knew. Even if I weren't in my hazard suit, I've always been clothed."

"Hazard suit?"

"It's to minimize dust ingress. Unfortunately, I'm still taking in way too much within the school proper. Tojo-san may have cleaned our dormitories to the point that I feel comfortable in here, but walking through the school is still a dust cloud."

"No wonder it's so hard to take off." Kokichi frowned and let Daisuke continue to scrub down the back with a new cloth, the old one blackened by dust strewn on the bed next to them, piled up with two more soot-stained rags from K1-b0's own cleaning of his arms and stomach.

"That **_is_ ** its point, Ouma-san." K1-b0 tossed yet another dirty cloth into the pile, as he wiped down a foot. "I think that's as good as I'll get without an industrial wash. Thank you for the assistance. My bed is yours for the next few hours, but I will ask for help getting dressed before you leave come morning. I’ll ruin myself without the suit if I wish to leave the dorms."

"Mph," Kokichi replied, before falling backwards on the unused bed, passing out almost immediately.

* * *

CHARACTER Name          AKAMATSU Kaede

SUBJECT Name            FUJIWARA    Maiya

SUBJECT ID                  53-12

CHARACTER Skill            PIANIST

METHOD OF INDUCTION: Memory light C.156-4

REASON FOR STUDY: Impostor Syndrome

NOTES: FUJIWARA has extreme impostor syndrome thanks to a long family line of shrine ownership and major feelings of inadequacy due to a lame leg preventing her from being a shrine maiden like her sisters (inability to perform traditional dances). FUJIWARA was given master pianist AKAMATSU with an outgoing personality to potentially combat feelings of inadequacy and channel energy into a skill she could potentially master beyond memory light induction.

C.156 is showing to be a good general induction tool, though not the strongest for mass-imparting information into subjects. [FUJIWARA took five inductions to start showing signs of changed personality as opposed to most other forms 2-4 inductions, and induction sessions on average, 27 minutes longer than all other forms]. Notably, C.156 also is more stable for subject, FUJIWARA and other C.156 induced subjects are 50% less likely to report adverse symptoms. A hybrid light dosage with C.128 suggested for future testing on anxiety and feelings of inadequacy to maximize effectiveness while reducing negative symptoms of nausea and muscle spasms.

TEST TERMINATED: Death of character (voted as culprit, hanged and crushed)

* * *

 


	31. Flipside- A Caucus-Race and a long Tale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the photos at the end of the last chapter were of my Kiibo COSPLAY! The fact that some of you thought it was a mannequin means I did my job :).
> 
> BTW, it's not much, but I do have two other Dangan fics- a post Dangan 2 fic from Fuyuhiko's perspective and a kinda lewd Talent Development Plan Kiiruma. Click my name to check them out.
> 
> I'd also love some Kiiruma or genfic recommendations (I am open to other ships if done well, but Kiiruma is my personal jam)? I'm reading Three Point Shot, 16x3, and I'll Trade My Life for Yours, and the former has only one chapter left. I am a sad. Happy because its excellent, but it is ending.
> 
> ALSO HOLY CROW OVER 100K. WHOA

_ Some time earlier… _

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile. Not like that.”

Kibou dropped his tea, spilling it all over the tatami, as Mori dropped her own box of things next to him.

“Well now at least I can tell the others I made you do a spit take, in a manner of speaking. That’s one of Tenko-chan’s isn’t it? Does it smell nice?” Mori sat down next to Kibou, who had been enjoying the smell and warmth of a fresh cup of green tea with the others at breakfast in the great room, until Mori had surprised him into dropping the earthenware cup and liquid all over the mats.

Kaede ran up from her spot in the corner, dish towel in hand and flecks of rice still stuck to her cheek.

“Um… Kaede-chan, please. Go finish your breakfast. Nothing has broken, and I can clean up my own mess.”

“Seriously, Kaede-chan. We have attendants for a reason. Go eat. I could use your help with something after you’re done if you really want to. Otherwise… your schedule’s blank today, isn’t it?”

“Yeah… I don’t have anything. Maybe I’ll play some piano later. If… people wanted to listen.”

“Kaede-chan, I’d love to hear you play,” Rantaro piped up from his own plate of omelet and fried rice, a soft, genuine smile on his face.

Kaede’s cheeks turned three shades of pink.

“I would too!” Kibou piped in. “I heard you playing something the other night when I had to help Korekiyo-kun with some medication, but I’d love to hear a proper concert.”

“Um… okay then! I’ll sit down later and think of a good concert set. And yes, um…” Kaede paused, searching for the young adult’s name.

“Mori. I’m one of the roboticists.”

“…Mori-chan? I’ll help when I’m done.” Kaede smiled, and went back to sit with Rantaro, the two laughing and talking quietly in the corner, as they ignored everyone else in the room.

Kibou turned to his left, where he’d spilled his cup, to find the liquid wiped, and the teacup replaced with a fresh one, filled with piping hot green tea. He hadn’t even noticed anyone come by and clean. The Team Danganronpa staff was nothing if not efficient.

Kibou turned his attention to his ward. “What can I do for you, Mori-chan? That looks like you brought half of my lab in here.”

“You’re not wrong. Toshiro-kun and the Professor are working in there right now so I had to find somewhere else to work.”

“I- oh…” Kibou blushed. “Here?”

“Well, your bedroom in the robotics wing is too small, your bunk in the dorms doesn’t give me enough clearance, and I don’t want to move all the furniture in the dorm commons. There’s nowhere to plug everything in in the gym, so it’s here or the art room.”

“The art room is half-full of Angie-chan’s sculptures. I’d hate to move them,” Kibou replied with a nod. “I suppose here will have to do. What did you want to do?”

“First, a little bird told me your wig was peeling and fraying. I have a new one. It’s the same, don’t worry, just not all ratty.”

“Oh! Appreciated.”

“And don’t go washing it every time you clean. The synthetic fibers aren’t meant to be washed that often.”

Kibou’s face reddened, as he folded in on himself.

“Nobody told you. Heck, I didn’t know ‘till I read the instructions. It’s not… erm, well, it’s not real hair.”

“I know, Mori-chan,” Kibou replied with a light smile, hovering a hand over his tea, letting the grassy smell calm him down a little. “What else did you need to do? I don’t think you’d need a soldering iron to replace my hair. It’s sewn to the fabric part of my scalp, isn’t it?”

“Actually, it’s clipped in, if you disengage your faceplate and ear caps, I can replace it.”

“Oh, that makes sense. I… used to switch it out more often, didn’t I?”

Mori looked at him for a moment, knowingly. “Well, Tabi did. I dunno. I wouldn’t call you  **_her_ ** . It’s the boat problem.”

“Boat… problem?”

“If you have a wooden boat, and every time a board rots you replace it, eventually, you’ll have replaced every board. Is it the same boat you started with?”

Kibou frowned. “Every seven years or so every cell in the human body has been completely replaced with a new cell. Is it the same human?” he retorted back.

Mori crossed her arms. “Touché. But are you Tabi?”

Kibou thought for a moment. “I… don’t think so. It felt like I was watching a movie the last time I went into one of her memories. I didn’t feel like I was reliving something of my own. It’s only been a few months our AI split apart, but I feel like I’m not… her.”

“Well, that was actually going to be one of the other things I was going to do, if you wanted. I can see about pulling files out of your drive.”

“I’d still like that. I’d like to know more about my big sister.”

“That’s how you see her?”

“It’s the best analogy I have,” Kibou replied, shrugging.

XXX

“I’m taking off your ear caps first, K1-b0,” Mori said, after breakfast had been cleared and she’d laid down a heatproof mat to solder on safely. The great hall was cleared of people, save Kibou and Mori, giving the robot a bit of privacy.

“Um… did you want me for this?” Kaede poked her head back in the great room, looking at the two on the floor. Kibou had neatly folded his shirt, vest, and tie to the side. Once Kaede realized she was looking at Kibou shirtless, she shrieked a little and promptly shut it again, Mori speeding to chase after her.

* * *

“Um if it’s not too much trouble, Mori-chan…” Kibou started, as he twiddled his fingers while Mori disengaged his faceplate, “it’s Kibou. Not K1-b0. Accent on the second syllable.”

“Oh, gosh, I am so sorry, Kibou-kun. The Professor mentioned it this morning, I didn’t mean to mis-name you, especially since they’re so similar.”

“Kibou?” Kaede asked, still embarrassed to look at the robot head on.

“I have siblings with whimsical names. I felt it was time to join them. And Kaede-chan, you need not avert your eyes. I’m quite used to being worked on, and I have no reproductive organs. There’s nothing to see but solid composite metal plates under my clothing.”

“Well, she’d see your face guts if you could stop talking a moment,” Mori replied with a laugh.

“Um, sorry…” Kibou replied, before stilling himself completely. With a quiet click, Mori deftly removed the white plastic face, and laid it neatly on a clean cloth to the side.

“That’s terrifying,” Kaede replied, peeking at the exposed wires and sensors under the plate, while Mori nonchalantly removed Kibou’s wig, putting on a fresh one, careful to slide a tube of hair around his antennae.

“I’m sure it is,” Kibou replied.

“Please try not to talk without the plate on, I don’t want anything disengaging,” Mori chided. “Actually…”

Kibou kept himself perfectly still, locking his joints in place so as not to move, while Mori prepped her soldering iron. Kaede peeked in close.

“Don't touch anything with your bare hands, if you must, use gloves,” Mori chided.

“Um… um, yes ma’am!” Kaede cried in response, and hurriedly grabbed a fresh pair of surgeon’s gloves form the box behind Mori. “Anything I can do or should I just stay out of the way?”

“Can you run some compressed air in there? Start with his ears. They don’t get cleaned often enough.”

“Ummmm…” Kaede held out the can and pressed, sending a spray of freezing air everywhere.

“Why… don’t you just sit and watch. Kibou-kun, it’s easier if you put your head in my lap.”

Kibou blushed, but, without the faceplate in the way to diffuse, nine very bright red LED sparked to life on his face.

“Aw, that’s how you actually blush,” Kaede interjected. “That’s actually… kinda low tech.”

“We were more concerned with giving Kibou proper sensory input, as much as possible. So yes, his face is actually really simple. The only thing he can move is his mouth, jaw, basically anything below the nose.”

“The rest of the expressions are just eye projections, yeah?” Kaede asked, peering, as Kibou quietly complied so Mori could clean out his ears.

“Mhmmm.” Mori sprayed carefully down the open ear canal, before nudging Kibou to flip over.

“I’m sorry to sound like a jerk, but….” Kaede started as she peered over. “I’ve seen way more expressive animatronics at theme parks. You couldn’t use something like that to give him more… I dunno. Um, sorry Kibou-kun. I didn’t know how to say that without comparing you to a ride attraction.”

“Two things. One, those are either preprogrammed or remotely operated, and two, they don’t need to be stuffed with sensors. We had a hard enough time building Kibou-kun here without accidentally giving him synesthesia- his sense of smell and sight would constantly cross by accident. At the time, we didn’t have small enough reliable sensors. Now though, the other reason why I wanted to do some checks today was to take stock of everything. I want to see what can be moved, removed, or miniaturized so I can build him a better head. Kibou-kun asked the Professor for the ability to cry and I figured I’d go and see if there was anything else. Um, sorry Kibou, as soon as I’m done I’ll snap your face back on so you can talk. Or duh… can you just turn off your jaw?”

“I’m an idiot,” Kibou interjected a moment later, speaking without moving his face.

“I’m not sure what’s more terrifying, seeing you faceless with your mouth moving, or seeing it not move and still hearing your voice.”

“Kibou, I’m done with your ears,” Mori cut in, gently shoving Kibou’s head off her lap.

“Oh, thank you. I needed that, actually. I think I’ve been overcompensating by increasing the volume input.”

Kaede giggled. “It's like having to go to the doctor to get a big piece of earwax out.”

Kibou nodded carefully. “Suppose it is.”

* * *

“So? How does it feel?”

“Strange. I know I’ve had it turned off for a while, but…”

“Your head is probably slightly off balance now that I’ve done a little rhinoplasty.” Mori giggled at her own joke, looking down at the mass of disassembled parts.

“So that’s what they’re calling it these days,” Kibou replied with a smile now that his faceplate was back on. He also looked at the large black box covered in wire on the floor. “That’s a third of my face you just took out.” Reflexively, he grabbed at his nose, feeling the slightly rubbery plastic between his fingers, smelling rubbing alcohol, before snatching up Mori’s phone to look at his face in the camera to make sure his nose was actually still there.

His new wig looked really good, he noticed. Soft white, with little spikes. He wiggled his antenna a little and grinned at the cowlick in the mirror. And his nose, at least to the outside world, looked as it did before.

“Smell is very hard to do well. We moved the sensors out of your face and into your forearms. They’re here, and here,” Mori replied, tapping each arm just below the elbow after he handed back her phone. “And then the actual receptors are wired down into the fingers. Interestingly, you don’t get synesthesia between smell and touch, right?”

Kibou shook his head. “I don’t. I didn’t realize the sensor was so large though. I’m going to have to get used to moving my head without it in there.”

“Your eye sensor is over by where an Adam’s apple should be, the cameras wire down your neck, and the audio sensors wire around the backside of your head,” Mori added, more for Kaede’s benefit than Kibou’s. “We’ve actually got a lot of room to work with now that I’ve taken the unused olfactory sensor out of your face. I think, with a little ingenuity, I could probably… hmmm. And this is why I pulled in Kaede-chan.”

“Me?” Kaede asked nervously, as she watched Kibou move with interest. It was such an odd dichotomy of distinctly human and distinctly… not.

“Well,  **_someone_ ** asked for a makeover and I figured you might be able to help.” Mori pulled a stack of fashion magazines out of the bottom of her box, strewing them at Kibou’s feet. “People don’t normally get to pick what their own face is going to look like and the Professor said he didn’t want Kibou looking like a teenage, um,  **_him_ ** . So?”

Kibou turned deep red, and pulled on his pile of clothing, shoving his face in his shirt.

* * *

“I don’t think going this far is necessary,” Kibou cried out once he’d found his voice again. “I’d rather be on the left side of the uncanny valley than in it.”

“The… what?”

“The uncanny valley? The idea that something is so close to human it’s… off. The goal of robotics right now is to minimize that by either being a perfect replica of humanity, or, more commonly by deliberately shooting… short…” Kibou trailed off. “Mori-chan I don’t feel… right. I think I’m remembering something.”

“Lay down and try to dive in?” Mori asked, worried. “Lean back, and concentrate. I have you. I think you’re remembering the lec-”

“So, who can explain the uncanny valley to me?”

Kibou let the memory wash over, as he realized he was sitting again in a wheelchair. This time, though, he wasn’t at the Danganronpa facility. It looked like a lecture hall. About forty students sat facing him and he felt uncomfortable. Or was that Tabi feeling uncomfortable?

She shifted a little in her chair and looked down at her feet. Yes, that was Tabi’s discomfort he felt, he was much more at ease in large groups that she seemed to be.

“Honda-san?” Tabi turned her head towards the sound. Iidabashi stood at a digital whiteboard tapping a foot. He looked tired, but content, and Kibou felt his older sister- still for lack of a better analogy- relax in her chair.

And then he realized she… wasn’t currently a she, in a manner of speaking. Kibou didn’t have tactile sensors in his face- they were only in his shoulders, chest, and arms, so it didn’t register until he realized he couldn’t feel Tabi’s hair down his back when she turned her head. She was wearing jeans in the lecture, and had on a wig that didn’t reach her shoulders. Kibou wished he could catch a glimpse of what they currently looked like.

“The uncanny valley? The idea that something is so close to human it’s… off. The goal of robotics right now is to minimize that by either being a perfect replica of humanity, or, more commonly by deliberately shooting short of that,” a boy, Kibou presumed Honda, replied.

So that’s why Kibou felt a memory come on. He’d pulled it up himself when Mori brought up the uncanny valley, spitting back word for word something he never realized he’d remembered.

“Good,” Iidabashi replied. “I’ve brought in Tabi today; we’ve been working off the Katherine Bonnie AI to make a caretaking assistant. Tabi, you’ve been awfully quiet, say hello?”

“H-hello,” Tabi said shakily, in baritone. So, she was a boy today. Kibou wasn’t quite sure how she did it, constantly swapping personalities when he barely changed his style of clothes. It was just a part of the job for her, he guessed. “I’m still learning a lot but it’s a pleasure to meet you all,” she added.  **_He_ ** ? Kibou didn’t know anymore.

“Whoa,” came several murmurs from the class.

“He’s not remotely operated, is he?”

“I most certainly am not!” Tabi snapped back, a little more confident, crossing her arms on her chest. “I’m not an animatronic, thank you.”

Several people laughed.

“Did you all think I was just a doll sitting in a wheelchair this whole time?” she added.

Quiet murmurs affirmed it. “Iidabashi-sensei usually brings in animatronic parts to show us stuff…” one kid finally piped up.

Tabi laughed.

“So, everyone, how does it feel talking with an actual android? Can someone tell me if it makes them uncomfortable? Or not? And why? Actually, let me back up a moment.  **_Why_ ** is talking about this so important?”

Silence.

“Who would want to talk with me if I scared them?” Tabi finally piped up, shifting nervously.

“Tabi, if you want to take this course for credit, you’re going to need to start paying tuition,” Iidabashi joked dryly.

Kibou grinned internally.  **_There_ ** was his creator’s wicked sense of humor.

“But yes, Tabi is correct. Robots designed for, say, factory work, the welders and painters of the world, they do need some form of intelligence. What if something falls off the assembly line, for example? But they don’t interact with regular people, maybe just one or two engineers that service them. And they certainly don’t need social skills. But androids pose a different problem. Our future service robots need to be accepted at large by those they serve, and that means we have to avoid this section of the realism scale,” he said, tapping the bottom of the curve, “or the people who would be the users or partners to these robots would be too afraid to be near them. My team solved this problem by deliberately making Tabi less human like in certain areas where we weren’t confident we could go past the curve. Example one, let’s look at Tabi’s eyes. Things like squinting and blinking weren’t possible to fit inside the head, so rather than trying to force it and making it off, we went for OLED displays instead of doll eyes. What this allowed us to do was…”

“Kibou-kun?”

“ **_Kibou-kun_ ** ?”

Kibou’s cameras rebooted, as he stared upwards at Mori and Kaede.

“Kibou-kun, are you okay? Oh, there’s your irises.”

“...I am now. Discussing the uncanny valley triggered one of Tabi’s memories. Um… Tabi is an older partition of my AI, Kaede-chan,” Kibou added in explanation.

Mori offered her hands and Kibou pulled, sitting up on the mat.

“Why don’t I try restoring the drive another day? You could probably use a little downtime.”

“Appreciated.”

* * *

“You’re carrying around another AI’s memories?” Kaede asked, as she pored over books, making notations in the margins.

“Yes… she… she was another offshoot of the same AI core.”

“Was…?” Kaede asked curiously, scribbling notations and moving on to another book of sheet music.

“She… for lack of a better word, she committed suicide. Her only backup is corrupted. I’ve only just begun to sort out her memories. Before you ask… it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Not anyone here, at least. It’s… complicated.”

“Oh.” Kaede frowned. “You know, you were out for a solid half hour. Since you hadn’t returned to your terminal… um, that’s Mori-chan’s words not mine… um, since you hadn’t done something she expected, she figured you were pretty deep in your memory.”

“Well, it was her memory, but yes.”

“Was it… painful?”

“Not… in the way you’d think. It was a happy memory, but seeing it and knowing the owner doesn’t exist any more…”

“Mhmmmm…” Kaede replied, deep in thought.

“I’ve noticed you’ve written, scratched out, rewritten, and subsequently scratched out Clair de Lune on your set list.”

“It’s my favorite piece. Debussy. But… I’m not sure I want to play it tonight.”

“Why don’t you play it when the game is over then?”

Kaede smiled. “Yeah. I think I’ll be a lot less nervous after we all go through it. What kind of music do you like, Kibou-kun?”

“I… haven’t listened to all that much to form an opinion, well, aside from playing video games. When I was still just an AI in the system, I’d play games against the students in the computer, and now I get to actually play with a controller. Having hands puts me at a more even playing field,” Kibou added with a light chuckle.

“Well, game music?”

“Oh! I did play a lot of Civilization 8, there’s lots of traditional classical pieces in there, isn’t there? I liked the song when you play as England, let me look that up for you…”

Kibou stilled for a moment. “Scarborough Fair.”

“Did you just Google it?”

“Well, I pinged back to my terminal. My body doesn’t have a direct Internet link. Too easy to hack. I asked my home computer to go look something up, and then got the answer back. It does happen so quickly you could more or less say I did it myself, but…”

“Okay, Watson, calm down. Um… you said the whole game was classical pieces? That's a good theme for the concert. Would most of the tech team recognize if I played the songs from it?”

“Even Iidabashi-sensei would play on occasion. He’d get very upset when I’d nuke his cities.”

Kaede stifled a laugh. “Something something robot uprising?”

“You can make killer robots as an end-game perk. Oh! And you can convince noted musicians to make music for your civilization, too. You don’t need to win by war.”

“Really? That sounds fun.”

“Debussy is recruitable,” Kibou replied, grinning.

Kaede’s eyes lit up. “Is he now? What does he do?”

“Well, you can ask him to play a concert in another civilization’s territory, and you’ll earn a ton of tourism one time, which is a way to win the game if you’ve earned enough from every other civilization. Or you can have him create a masterwork- and yes, it’s Clair de Lune- which gives you a much smaller boost to tourism from every opponent for the rest of the game, if you can find a place to house the work, in an opera house, ballet hall, or the like.”

Kaede smiled. “It’s nice hearing you talk about something you love. I… I’m just a piano freak, and I didn’t know much about you or anyone else here. Thanks for… um… opening up to me today.”

Kibou groaned.

“Oh! And once Mori knew you’d be fine, we did go through those magazines. I think you’ll like what we picked.”

“You… she… they… aren’t going to follow through and redo my head, are they?”

“She sounded serious. Like it’s how they wanted to make you the first time around but didn’t have the means to do it. She said you don’t even have tactile sensors in your face, um… whatever that means.”

“It means if you touch me above my shoulders, I don’t register it.”

“Like… you’re numb?”

“Not numb. Um, put your hands palm-down on the table.”

Kibou touched the table. “What did you feel?”

“Nothing…? You didn’t touch me.”

“The table is my head.”

“O… ohhhhhhh,” Kaede replied, coming to a realization.

“It’s also anything below my torso, except for my feet. I only have tactile sensors where they’re specifically needed. For holding things, comforting others, and walking. That’s it.”

Kibou ran his fingers through his hair, feeling the fibers in his hands, but not feeling his hands on his scalp.

“If… that’s the way I was supposed to be…” Kibou started, then frowned. “No, that’s what I want now. I’m the Ultimate Robot. And that means I can change myself beyond what any human could.”

“Yeah! You’re as ultimate a robot as I am a pianist!”

Kibou stopped, and looked at the girl who only a short while ago had been someone he briefly knew as a bored girl from Nara named Maiya, how she’d been re-created.

“You’re right, Kaede-chan, I’m as ultimate a robot as you are a pianist,” he echoed. Not in futility, but determination. She’d become an ultimate not from years of hard work or study, but through technology. And so could he.

“So, Kibou, spill. What other classical music is in that game?”

“Let me sit, so I don’t lose my balance from bombarding the terminal with queries, though I can tell you right off the bat there’s the Australian song Waltzing Matilda, and for Japan it’s…”  
  



	32. Let’s Try This Again

A cold hand gently touched his arm.

“O-ouma-san?”

Kokichi slowly opened his eyes, reached up to rub out the crust out, Daisuke taking care of the right without much thought.

“Ouma-san, I require some assistance getting dressed... or leaving the dormitory will be difficult. And you likely wish to freshen up yourself.”

Kokichi blinked and breathed. “I may be a liar, but I’m not a flake. Hang on,” he muttered, pushing himself upright. He frowned. Didn’t he take out his contacts last night? He must have put them back in when he went to see k1-b0.

Kokichi  **_hated_ ** this funhouse.

He stretched a moment, before scooping up the black fabric from the floor. Mildly rested, and considerably calmer, he got a better look at the robot in from of him, covered in impressive bronze clockwork patterns crisscrossing his chassis up to his neck.

“Man, you really don’t have a dick. That sucks! Or it doesn’t, I mean, there’s nothing to-”

“Spare me, Ouma-san. I know how human reproduction works,” K1-b0 replied, exasperated.

“Yeah, well, your microdick is limp. And, by which, I mean you bent your grounding pin," Kokichi said, peering at the holes in K1-b0’s neck for his charger, and probably to plug into a terminal as well. It looked like some kind of power and signal combo, especially with the grounding pin in the middle.

K1-b0’s hands flurried to the back of his neck, embarrassed.

“Hang on, I’ll fix it, if you have pliers,” Kokichi muttered. “You frying yourself the next time you try to charge is no fun. I mean, it’ll be hilarious for like  **_five seconds_ ** but with the way these teddy bears run it, I’d probs be considered the murderer for noticing but not telling you about it. So, no thanks, I don’t need to be hung from a piano. Not in my schedule.” Kokichi shook his head and pointed at the receptacle on the back of K1-b0’s neck. “This live or do you need to power off?”

“It’s inert,” K1-b0 replied calmly, realizing Kokichi was genuinely offering help, in a way. “Do… you need me to sit?”

“If you don’t want it screwed up more, yeah.”

“I have some basic tools in the desk drawer,” K1-b0 replied, wringing his hands, nervously.

“Don’t worry, Roomba, I’ll show you with mirrors when I’m done with it. Sheesh, like you don’t trust me or something and… there.” Kokichi had deftly straightened the pin in a matter of seconds.

“Thank you,” K1-b0 said, genuinely thankful, as he gingerly touched his neck. 

“Okay, Steampunk Yankee, let’s get that body bag on you.”

“Steam… what?” K1-b0 asked, reddening.

“Well, look at you,” Kokichi grunted, as he helped K1-b0 in the jumpsuit and secured on the plates. “It’s like steampunk tattoos or something. And why would they bother covering you in ‘em if nobody can see? Is it like robot lingerie?”

“I… no! It’s just… this school is filthy. I live… I suppose ‘lived’… with the Professor in a much more sterile environ.” K1-b0 wrung his hands again, clearly already done with his classmate, and the day had only started.

K1-b0 patted himself down, checking to make sure everything was secure. “As good as it can be, I suppose. Thank you.”

“Yeah well, don’t make a habit of it.”

“Ouma-san…” K1-b0 started, frowning. “The murder… and the trial… it scared you, didn’t it? It… it frightened me. What if I’m killed?”

“Bah… you’ll just reboot somewhere.”

“And if I don’t? This is a Faraday cage.”

“Then welcome to mortality,” Kokichi replied, waving his arm as he flung open K1-b0’s dorm door.

“It sucks,” Kokichi added grimly, with a slam.

* * *

‘ **_Ko_ ** .’

‘ **_What_ ** ,’ Kokichi replied, sighing under the shower with the water on the highest setting.

‘ **_Um… I don’t know if this is important at all?_ ** ’

‘ **_Spit it out… metaphorically speaking_ ** .’

‘ **_Kii… um, Kii we knew… he didn’t have that stuff on him, the bronze welding_ ** .’ Daisuke took the soap back from Kokichi, and waited for a reply.

‘ **_It looked new. Didn’t you say we were out a few days and he was separated from everyone?_ ** ’

‘ **_Yeah, it’s not like he needed the memory lights..._ ** ’ Daisuke replied, twiddling his fingers absentmindedly as Kokichi put the washcloth back on the rack and turned off the taps. ‘ **_Still. It’s weird, especially if…_ ** ’ Daisuke froze for a moment, as if he’d remembered something. ‘ **_No, maybe people would see it._ ** ’

‘ **_Why? It’s not like he’s going to undress somewhere outside of his bedroom, and you said the dorm cameras weren’t recording for the show, just the_ ** -’

‘ **_There’s a love hotel behind one of those construction sites_ ** ,’ Daisuke cut in.

Kokichi just banged his head against the shower tile.

* * *

 

There was indeed a love hotel behind one of the new areas that opened for the fourteen remaining participants, just as Daisuke said.

A  **_locked_ ** love hotel, but that was something Kokichi could certainly fix, given enough quiet time with the door in question, so long as the lock wasn’t electronic.

Kokichi sighed. Wasn’t underage stuff illegal to film? He guessed it didn’t apply to K1-b0, but the rest of them were all under 20.

* * *

A flashlight, a big one. Among all the things they found, this made the hand Daisuke was occupying twitch irritably.

‘ **_Like the bathroom mirror. But worse_ ** ,’ Daisuke cautioned, once the Monokuma family had told them it would give them back their memories.

After minor bickering from the team, with Shuichi finally deciding to use it, Kokichi stood back and closed his eyes in anticipation.

‘ **_It’ll still work eyes closed_ ** ,’ Daisuke warned. ‘ **_Just know I’ll be here when it’s done, and try to fight back to the surface for you_ ** .’

* * *

 

Kokichi watched the other thirteen at lunch, eating in silence, shaking out his burning hand before letting Daisuke do the fine motor work as he spaced out a little from the influx of new (fake) information. Kirumi, who had cooked for everyone, made sure food was on communal plates and that she ate first to show its safety. Kokichi wasn’t worried. Nobody was going to make a move that quickly, there was no way of that happening.

Especially since neither Monokuma nor its four remaining children- one had been destroyed along with Kaede during her execution- were there to dish out any kind of motive. Not yet at least. Kokichi watched as Maki inhaled her food and disappeared off to the room they found near Gonta’s entomology lab- red like her uniform and very likely her own talent lab. Nobody else had found Kokichi’s yet- he marked the cable one would have to yank with a grease pen from the warehouse; it would smudge if anyone tried to pull. Kirumi’s lab, complete with laundry, Gonta’s, Tenko’s, Hoshi’s, and Himiko’s had opened. Along with his own, Kaede’s, and Miu’s, that was half the labs.

Daisuke had already given him a little overview of the school in its full form- that K1-b0 had a repair shop that would connect up into Miu’s, that the top floor only had three labs- a cosplay set for Tsumugi, a study for Shuichi, and Rantaro’s survivor rotunda that had some sort of lock on it with two sets of zodiac symbols that Arukawa- the producer, whom Daisuke had only described as Lab Coat, Heels, and Sunglasses- wouldn’t let them see.

‘ **_There’s something back there meant to give Rantaro an edge if he can open it_ ** ,’ Daisuke had tipped him off. ‘ **_But I don’t know what it is. Unless he was told in private, he wouldn’t have known either_ ** .’

If anything had cemented Kokichi’s trust in his ghost, it was how perfectly accurate Daisuke’s info was. So, when the two had spied a note saying Twins B in the atrium, and Horse A on a paving stone outside, Kokichi couldn’t see anything but an opportunity to mess with it. Rantaro wasn’t here anymore, anyway, so…

Kokichi shivered, thinking back to his handiwork of adding more letters that morning on the way to breakfast. Gonta would find it- the man was unusually astute.

So, Maki had fled for her lab- the only one left that Daisuke hadn’t seen before- while Miu attempted to edge closer to an awkward K1-b0, seemingly unaware of her lecherous advances, just hovering a hand over some green tea.

Shuichi sat at the farthest end of the table, a human’s space open between himself and Korekiyo.

A space for Kaede, Kokichi presumed.

* * *

 

Kokichi said nothing as he slipped into the kitchen to put his own dishes away, noticing that Shuichi’s hat sat on the empty space between Korekiyo and Shuichi, both who had already left, plates behind for Kirumi to do.

Kokichi blanched a little, knowing one thing from detective stories- don’t piss off the maid. It’s  **_always_ ** the maid.

* * *

 

Strange, Kokichi noticed, as he pushed open the giant door to enter the walled off area with the casino and hotel. The area was perpetually night.

‘ **_The sky is a projection_ ** ,’ Daisuke supplied, as Kokichi stood, and looked up in wonder at the strange change of scenery.

‘ **_Just here_ ** ?’ Kokichi asked.

‘ **_No, all of it. They can mess with the length of a day_ ** ,’ Daisuke replied, and Kokichi nodded, just a little. K1-b0 possibly had some kind of internal clock, he  **_had_ ** to, but other than time announcements, there were no watches or wall-clocks, or anything else to determine the actual time. If the mastermind wanted to mess with time, they had the ability.

The probability that K1-b0 was the mastermind was slowly rising in Kokichi’s head. That or Maki, whose room Daisuke never got to see.

He hadn’t gotten to see Ryoma’s, either, though, Kokichi had reminded himself, and Ryoma’s ended up being just a tennis room with a prison in the back.

Later, he’d grab a whiteboard from the warehouse and start taking some notes.

* * *

 

“Lock’s unpickable,” Monokuma said from behind, causing Kokichi to jump half a meter in the air. He was attempting to get into the Love Hotel- at the very least to test his picks and satiate his curiosity.

“I doubt it,” Kokichi replied, digging in deeper, feeling his third pin slide into place. It was slow going, since Daisuke wasn’t anywhere as good as Kokichi was and currently controlling their dominant hand, but seemed to have picked some up.

“No, you’ll be able to turn it, but it won’t open. The keys are also microtagged.”

Kokichi huffed, but pulled the picks out of the keyhole and sat on the paving stones.

“I’ll even make it easy for you,” Monokuma replied, nudging in and tapping the keyhole on the Love Hotel. “See? Gold rim on the inside. Conductive.”

“So, any lock that doesn’t have gold I can pick?”

Monokuma just held up his soft paws. If he didn’t menace, teeth open, as he talked, he’d be almost cute.  **_Almost_ ** . “Can’t blame me for giving some free advice.”

“You’re not going to punish me?” Kokichi said incredulously, pocketing the tools and patting off the dust.

“Rules say no breaking school property,” Monokuma shrugged. “I don’t see anything broken.”

“Why are you helping me?”

“Because it makes you look worse,” Monokuma said with a hearty shrill laugh, pointing behind Kokichi. Kaito stared from afar, by the casino, and Kokichi squeaked. Yeah, talking with Monokuma while trying to pick a locked door didn’t do him any favors.

When he turned around to respond to the bear, Monokuma had already disappeared.

“Damn it,” Kokichi shrieked aloud, to no-one.

* * *

Kokichi stomped into the casino, Kaito at the counter trying to exchange for casino coins. The taller, maroon haired boy in cool clothes and laughable slipper-shoes glared hard at Kokichi.

Kokichi just raised an eyebrow.

“Someone’s got friends in low places,” Kaito muttered.

“Awwww, Momota-chan, jealous?” Kokichi just shot back with a grin as he spied one of the tokens for the capsule machine stuck to the underside of the exchange counter. Kokichi deftly reached next to Kaito and palmed it.

“What did you do now,” Kaito said, sighing.

Kokichi then noticed the coin he had was also used to exchange for some casino coins and frowned.

“I think you’ve got something stuck in your bird’s nest of an updo,” Kokichi replied, taking his hand, coin safely hidden between his middle and ring finger, and pretended to reach into Kaito’s hair.

“Hey, what are you-”

Kokichi held out the coin. “Just don't become an addict. As funny as it would be to see what these bears will do to someone who can’t pay back a gambling debt.”

“Strip! Strip! In the courtyard!” two of the garishly colored Monokubs chanted, passing Kaito back a stack of casino coins. “Or work it off for a million years a coin!”

Kaito blushed, and stuffed them into his jacket pocket, muttering a ‘thanks’ as he fumbled his way down the stairs to the games below.

Kokichi sighed and eyed the prize redemption counter- an automated machine with all the prizes locked up behind a thick plexi sheet.

The lock’s keyhole was solid black and Kokichi grinned, pulling out his tools.

“Hey, wait, you can’t do that!” Monophanie, the pink bear, whined.

“Shaaaas who?” Kokichi asked, a pin in his teeth and three more already in the lock. “Sere’s no-sing in se books.”

Monophanie glowered as Kokichi took the pin out of his mouth and stuck it in the lock, before taking a tiny metal bar and shoving it in the keyhole, turning effortlessly with a click.

“That’s breaking and entering!” she whined.

“No, just entering. And taking,” Kokichi added, pulling out a single little black pennant on a chopstick sized piece of wood, sticking it out of his back pocket as a prize, grinning. A ‘death flag’.

Seemed appropriate.

“I… oh, my father will hear about this!” Monophanie sputtered as Kokichi slammed the plexi shut with a smirk, taking out the pins and checking that the door had locked.

“Already has,” Kokichi replied, a wave of his hand, as he walked out of the casino, the flag bouncing like a little target on his backside. He had a lot of locks in the school to check.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want to see me make a fool of myself? Of course you do.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DUPh6coqofc
> 
> Also... um. Yeah. Four months hiatus? Whoops. Sorry yall. I'll be a bit better about this.


	33. Let’s Never Speak of This Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few housekeeping things.
> 
> The bad first to get it out of the way:  
> Another assault trigger warning for this chapter. Unfortunately, when you bring in the actual reality of the Love Hotel, it's going to come up. Them's the breaks. The actual interactive component? It's next chapter. I had to split it up for my own sanity.
> 
> And now the good!  
> *First, I want to share my finished K1-b0 cosplay. It turned out insane.  
> https://tay.kinja.com/the-things-left-behind-danganronpa-v3-cosplay-photosho-1823510945  
> I've also posted an image of it at the end.  
> *Second, check out this INCREDIBLE fanart! Xiphias, I am just... wow. I'm stunned. This is amazing. I'm just... like wow. Thank you.  
> https://www.deviantart.com/art/Who-We-Were-DRV3FANFIC-FANART-751562982  
> *THIRD! We have a TV Tropes page now. Feel free to check it out or add to it if you like!  
> https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Fanfic/WhoWeWere
> 
> Guys, I feel B L E S S E D. Waking up to a new review or kudos is incredible. This little piece of crud from the corner of my brain is getting so much love and I can't thank you all enough. My beta, QwertysHuman, is an amazing sounding board, and you guys fill me with DETERMINATION!
> 
> On to the suffering!

Kokichi watched Gonta foraging in the main outdoor courtyard, and plopped down. The giant was on all fours, squirreling around, covering his suit pants’ knees in grass stains.

“Anything good?” Kokichi asked cocking his head back and forth.

“No sign of bug,” Gonta replied, irritated. “No hive, no mound, no anthill. But Gonta swears he see bug. Hear bug too. Sound is wrong though.”

Kokichi watched him with interest. “The sound’s wrong?”

“Gonta know bug flying sound. This not it. Sounds more like metal toy Gonta see Miu play with near her lab.”

“A drone?” Kokichi asked, now curious.

“That what it called? That.” Gonta pulled himself up on the picnic bench next to Kokichi. “Gonta needs lenses to see it better. Maybe go back to lab and take care of friends there, instead.”

Gonta sighed.

“Gonta… not say yesterday but… Kokichi helped save Gonta.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Kokichi said with a shrug.

“You ask smart questions. Find real person who kill Rantaro. Gonta just… Gonta get scared and don’t know what to do.” Gonta reached out and smacked Kokichi hard on the back, almost causing him to choke. It was meant to be endearing, Kokichi realized, but it came off as a painful blow. “Gonta know others don’t like you. You mean. You also mean well.”

Kokichi frowned. One thing he quickly realized about Gonta was that the man was simple. The other thing he quickly realized was that he also wasn’t dumb.

“Gonta had fun,” the giant added. “Let Gonta know if you want to help next time.”

Kokichi smiled softly. “You know what? I will.”

* * *

 

“Get dressed.”

Kokichi shot up, panting, Monokuma at the foot of his bed.

“Y’know, killing me by heart attack’s against the rules,” Kokichi quipped to hide his dissatisfaction. “You can’t cause a murder.”

“If I did, I’d revive you,” Monokuma snarked back. “That’s a super boring way to go.”

He muttered under his breath. “And terrible for ratings.”

Monokuma gave Kokichi’s arm one more shake for good measure before Kokichi snapped it away. “Now up. Dress. You have twenty minutes before I summon my cubs to drag you out of here.”

* * *

 

Kokichi scuffed his white shoe on the floor, hand burning from needing to put his contacts in and face on. Monokuma didn’t even knock, he just walked in, holding up a gaudy key.

“Don’t want to leave your loverboy waiting,” Monokuma said with a grin, twirling the key.

“Loverboy?’ Kokichi asked, eyebrow raised as he followed Monokuma to the dais in the middle of the dormitories, inside. It shuddered, and then dropped.

The center of the dorms was an elevator.

It fell only about three meters, when Monokuma motioned Kokichi to follow, and the platform rose back up into place behind them.

There was only one way, and that was forward.  Kokichi thought. If the school were behind, and the trial ground up front, they were heading west. The only things in that direction were the casino… and the love hotel.

“Well, enjoy, not that you’ll remember,” Monokuma said ominously, ducking out of the way before an extremely bright light flashed at the end of the tunnel and…

Kokichi was panicking, throwing up in his sink, now clearly down to just retching up bile. Before he realized it, his hands were at the taps, and his body was moving completely on its own, splashing cold water on his face. Kokichi remembered how Daisuke had helped him calm by forcing himself to be happy, and considered what he could do to help soothe his clearly panicking body.

He thought of DICE, of Ai and Momo, and Mamoru. How they’d sit on the roof of a local department store and plot their next antic like phantom thieves. He knew it wasn’t real, if Daisuke was to be believed, but it was happy, and good. He thought of the one time he went to America to yarn-bomb the White House. How it was on the news for a good three weeks before the media moved on to something else.

And his body gripped the countertop and slowly pulled himself upright, sighed, and put a finger to each eye, pulling out his contacts. The world blurred like a bad photoshop filter. His hands- Daisuke’s hands, he presumed, because there wasn’t any other logical explanation- filled the case with contact solution, snapped it shut, and shoved the various makeup and eye care items in the trick drawer.

Daisuke dropped his right arm to his side, and tapped. ‘ **_All yours in a moment, just stay up for a few. I want to talk to you_ ** .’

* * *

 

Kokichi took a deep breath in, shuffling. Without even thinking, he relaxed his right hand. He didn’t realize why, until the burning returned and he remembered he had a guest.

Or rather, that he was one.

He walked himself back onto his bed, and shuffled under the covers, obscuring his hands.

‘ **_Talk to me_ ** ,’ he tapped, closing his eyes and pretending to fall back asleep.

‘ **_What's the last thing you remember, Ko_ ** ?’

‘ **_A light at the end of the service tunnels_ ** .’

‘ **_That makes a lot of sense. After that it was like… you were dazed or hypnotized. Monokuma asked you who you were. You told him you were a phantom thief_ ** .’

Kokichi cracked a smile.

‘ **_See, that would have been fine. That would have been okay if_ ** …’

Daisuke’s hand stilled.

**_‘If what_ ** ?’

‘ **_If you didn’t start coming on to Shu, and push him on a bed. I forced my consciousness up and fled the room. It was actually really easy to do that, at least, makes sense if you weren’t actually all there yourself. Ko, if I hadn’t stepped in when I did we might have… Shu_ ** …’

Kokichi felt another wave of panic, before silent tears began to form on his face.

And then he was full-blown crying.

* * *

Kokichi’s door opened suddenly.

“Go away, Monokuma,” he howled.

“Ouma-san, your door was unlocked.” Kokichi looked in the darkness and saw a pair of glowing OLED displays- K1-b0.

‘ **_Let him in_ ** ,’ Daisuke barely tapped out.

“Whatever,” Kokichi grunted aloud.

K1-b0 tentatively stepped in Kokichi’s room, dodging a mess of snack bags on the floor.

“May I sit?” K1-b0 asked politely, gesturing to the edge of his bed, lit only by his eyes. Kokichi glared, but nodded.

“I do apologize,” K1-b0 started. “Your door was ajar and I went for a walk. I didn’t mean to intrude but you sounded like you could use some company. Also… I might have been worried that you had been attacked. You don’t seem the type to leave your door open.”

Kokichi frowned. “I was taken to the Love Hotel. Monokuma must not have locked it behind me.”

“Oh!” K1-b0 said smiling. “Did Miu sit and hold your hand, too? She looked kind of… odd though. Like she was a bit dazed.”

“That’s all she did? Hold your hand?”

“And fixed some of my service messages,” K1-b0 added, tapping his collar, which was now glowing a bit brighter than before. “I… take it from the reaction that your experience may not have been a good one,” he added softly. “Did you use a key tonight?”

“No, and I don’t remember anything, I just… I,” Kokichi froze, and clutched the sheets tighter with his hand, while Daisuke gripped his leg under the covers.

“Had a panic attack, I think. The professor would get them from time to time. Would you like me to stay with you? Get you anything?”

“I… I’ll ask if I need anything,” Kokichi finally exhaled.

“I’ll close the door behind myself then,” K1-b0 said, standing. “I’ll likely be in my room reading if you need anything. I cannot sleep. Please get up and come ring my bell, though, the walls are soundproof. If your door weren’t open I wouldn’t have noticed.”

Kokichi just looked down and breathed out, and when he looked up, K1-b0 was already gone, the door shut.

Kokichi huffed and flopped back on the bed.

‘ **_Monokuma did the same thing_ ** .’

Kokichi scrunched his face in the darkness.

Daisuke continued. ‘ **_No, really. When I ran out of the hotel room into the hallway… he grabbed me and sat me down and talked me down. Handed me water. Walked me back to the dorms, and told me he’d help me forget, then slammed the trick door open and pressed a button in the bathroom_ ** .’

‘ **_I woke up to you throwing up in the sink, with you in control_ ** .’

‘ **_Yeah, and me shutting the drawer made you forget me as usual, and then I resurfaced_ ** .’

Kokichi took even, ragged breaths. ‘ **_Why would Monokuma help_ ** ?’

‘ **_It_ ** …’ Daisuke froze for a moment, likely in thought. ‘ **_I think that Monokuma isn’t controlled by just one person. I think Kawa took control and stopped whatever was going on. Just a guess. But it just felt like her. Kuma was actually really worried and was… doting. Like K1-b0 just did_ ** .’

‘ **_Sounds like a production quarrel on what they want that stupid thing to be_ ** ,’ Kokichi replied.

‘ **_I think whoever is running it is going to be answering to Kawa_ ** ,’ Daisuke replied. ‘ **_But_ ** …’

‘ **_But_ ** ?’

‘ **_Just in case, could you do me a favor?_ ** ’

‘ **_What_ ** ?’ Kokichi replied, yawning as he rolled into a better position.

Daisuke tapped his request as they both fell back asleep.

* * *

Kokichi yawned, dressed, chugged an energy drink, and stomped out the dorms directly to the casino the next morning, bypassing Monodam and headed straight to the redemption machine, to squat at the lock with his picks. In a few deft twists, the glass was open again.

“What are you taking this time, mister?” Monophanie asked, exasperated, with the knowledge she couldn’t really fight back.

“These,” Kokichi said, whistling low as he reached in and took the entire rack of Love Hotel keys. “And if you refill it, I’ll just come back again.”

He grabbed another Death Flag for good measure, and shut the case, yanking out his picks, and waving. He knew he couldn’t watch the case every waking moment, and someone might buy a key if the machine did get refilled, but hopefully he’d done his part to stem the tide.

“Ta-ta, losers!”

* * *

Kokichi shoved the keys in his desk drawer, slightly better. At least Daisuke stepped in and had done the right thing, but it didn’t stop the pit in his gut. If it had been anyone else, it would have ended in assault. Maybe the producer Daisuke kept talking about would have intervened, it sounded like she might have.

It was an odd line to draw though- intervening in assault but leaving murder alone. Kokichi rubbed the ridge under his eye, and then spotted a weirdly colored digital tablet thrown on his bed.

‘ **_On or off_ ** ?’ he asked.

‘ **_I’ll bet you a bottle of grape soda I know exactly what that is_ ** ,’ Daisuke replied.

* * *

‘ **_Thank goodness, grape is disgusting_ ** ,’ Kokichi felt smug, on his way to breakfast.

‘ **_But I did tell you it might have been the DICE motive video!_ ** ’ Daisuke replied silently, yet somehow almost like a whine.

‘ **_After saying you were betting on the making coffee one_ ** ,’ Kokichi snapped back, to a handful of confused faces heading towards breakfast. ‘ **_You’d be cheating if you guessed every single one you made_ ** .’

* * *

Breakfast was a mild panic, Kokichi roughly remembered it with several people storming out over the argument they had over watching motive videos, while Tenko and Himiko didn’t storm out per se, but left in a mad rush to go practice some magic.

In the end, it left just Kokichi and Kirumi to clean up from breakfast.

“Ouma-san, you don’t need to assist,” Kirumi admonished. “It is my duty to take care of everyone.”

“And I’m bored,” Kokichi replied. “ **_Mom_ ** .”

Kirumi just narrowed her eyes. “Please leave.”

* * *


	34. You Ain’t Getting Off Easy, Kid

“What do you want, half-birth? My genius is wasted on you.”

Iruma Miu’s voice was muffled under a welding mask, as she slammed something down on a worktable, sending sparks flying.

“Should have barred the door if you didn’t want guests,” Kokichi retorted, leaning on a gaudy pink dentist-ish chair with a host of wicked sharp tools on one side. For K1-b0.

He assumed.

He  **_hoped_ ** .

“Oh, I want guests,” she replied, moaning a little. “Just not you.”

“Well, I can tell you now that unless he’s very good with his mouth there’s not much he’s going to give yo-uch!” Daisuke pinched him. Hard. He walked sideways, banging into some unknown contraption, trying to play it off as clumsiness and just hurting himself more for the trouble.

“Break anything and I’ll crush your balls under my stiletto. Slowly.”

“Iruma-chan don’t be like that. You know I’d never ever want to be with a skank whore like you in a million years. Or maybe it's a lie. Who knows? I could be into BDSM. Maybe.”

“Pah, you’re all talk but when the night’s on the line you’ll just get whisky dick.”

“Look, I didn’t come here to well, come.”

“Those cameras I made for Bakamatsu were a one-time deal, Ouma-kun. And she groveled for me.”

“I never said I’d demand. I’m offering a trade.”

Miu stopped, put the welding torch down on a heatproof pad, and lifted up the mask, looking Kokichi up and down as if she were sizing him up.

“No deal,” Miu said, sliding the mask back on her face.

“ **_Information_ ** , you trash can. I’m offering information.”

“I’ve already seen my motive video, dumbass. It was blank. Not that I was expecting anyone on it. I’m out for me, myself, and I. There’s not a soul out there that cares about me anyway, other than the money they’d get ponying up to me and my brain.”

Kokichi froze. Well, so he got his own, and either Miu did, too, or whoever had hers trusted her with it. He supposed if hers had been blank- that she really didn’t have a person waiting for her outside- there wasn’t much reason to hide the motive video from her. She  **_had_ ** no motive to leave, less so now that a real live (metaphorically speaking) android was basically caged in here with her, too.

But, based on the arguments at breakfast, the others, at least enough of them to bicker, got the wrong motive videos. He could guess at what a few of them might be by their murmurs, K1-b0’s was likely the robotics professor who created him, and Kaito had grandparents, both of which Daisuke confirmed were real people.

Whether this was intentional or not, he couldn’t say. It wasn’t like his was very… motivational. In fact, it only reminded him that he was part of a gang that wouldn’t commit property damage or violence.

If he were a real person and attempted to commit murder to escape this hellhole, those ‘friends’ of his would never have let him forget it.

So, then, who had whose? And which ones were actually motives? He assumed it was probably going to be a mix, and possibly even that only one or two of the videos were really motives at all.

But that wasn’t important.

What was important was what Gonta had heard the day before. Tiny mechanical insects? Were they drones?

And what about the cameras hidden around the school? Kokichi knew where enough of them were, but not enough information to disable them.

And that was nothing to say about the massive gun-toting excavation machines the four multicolored Monokuma knockoffs were piloting.

“I never said anything about your video,” Kokichi finally shot back, after he gathered his thoughts. “I meant information about the school itself. Isn’t it strange half of it is still covered in scaffolding? Wanna know what else is there?”

“You’ve seen parts of the school? Anything that can drill through that wall? I’ve already tried everything I can think of but nothing’s big enough to blow a load.”

“One favor for one favor,” Kokichi replied smugly. “And I’ll even let you see a card from my hand first. If you like what you see, I want a vacuum with an EMP chamber in it.”

“A… what?” Miu replied, narrowing her eyes.

“I want a vacuum. Something that can suck up flies and stuff. Gonta was complaining he heard something buzzing yesterday. But in the actual canister, I want an EMP chamber. If you want to spare your robo-boyfriend, make the EMP function fizzle out if its opened or something, I don’t care.” Kokichi handed over a colored-pencil drawing he and Daisuke hastily scraped together between hijacking the Love Hotel keys and breakfast. So, it looked like a five year old drew it. Kokichi wasn’t left handed and Daisuke didn’t really understand how to design out what Kokichi wanted. He was a software specialist, dammit. Of course it was going to look a bit juvenile.

A  **_lot_ ** juvenile.

Miu frowned. “I’m only taking this on if I like what I see because it’s weird and K1-b0 won’t let me touch him,” Miu answered, frothing at the mouth and wiggling her fingers, as she threw the mask aside. “All I want to do is see how all his little parts interlock and take him apart, screw by screwwwww…”

Miu moaned, and grabbed for the edge of her skirt. Kokichi turned red and faced away in shame.

‘ **_She’s going to give me a migraine_ ** ,’ Kokichi tapped. ‘ **_We were actually… friends with her_ ** ?’

‘ **_That’s so weird though_ ** ,’ Daisuke tapped back once Miu had finished her episode, and she hurriedly put her tools away on… whatever it was she was working on. ‘ **_Kii seemed pretty happy to have a drugged up Miu work on him last night. And she was the one summoned to the room like you were… she doesn’t remember but he does_ ** .’

‘ **_Won’t let her touch him, huh_ ** …’ Kokichi replied, lost in thought.

* * *

Kokichi checked the main hall. Thankfully, with the pool, casino, and Himiko’s lab open, everyone seemed to be busy doing other things. Casually, he yanked the cord of the hall monitor, and the stairs gave way.

Miu frowned.

“If you’re too scared, let the big strong man go first,” Kokichi jeered, with a pointed grin, and barely at Miu’s chest height.

“Go fuck yourself,” Miu replied. “With a rusted rake. Up your-”

“Ah, ah, I get it. I’d say ladies first, but I don’t see any.”

* * *

“What’s the catch, half-birth?” Miu said, heel clicking as she looked at Kokichi’s lab.

“I already told you the catch. Make me my EMP vacuum.”

“You’re not going to lock me in that car? Leave me stuck in here?” she asked, pointing to the useless prop of a spy car.

“Look,” Kokichi said, exasperated. “Flip this lever to close up the stairwell. Flip again to open. Everything else, you’re on your own. I have better things to do than babysit a turd. Buh-bye,” he added, waving his hand.

“Wait.”

“Hm?” Kokichi, almost out of the massive room, turned around.

“I… fine. Give me two days.”

“Just don’t get yourself killed,” Kokichi admonished. “And I have two other projects for you when you’re done if you’re interested.”

Miu looked at him with curiosity. “You… don’t have anyone waiting for you, either, Mr. Supreme Sperm.”

“I’m the leader of an evil crime syndicate. Pretty sure my odds of survival are higher in here than out there. Or am I?” he added with a shrug. “Just put stuff back where you found it when you’re done with it.”

* * *

Kokichi started with Korekiyo’s room. He had to work fast, no clue when someone would return, if not to their room, then to the dorms.

Korekiyo had Tsumugi’s. A cheerful bubbly girl with teased twintails, a miniskirt, and Monokuma hairpins grinned at the camera.

“Keep it up, Smoogie-tan! I believe in you! Shirogane, Shirogane, YAS QUEEN!” was all it said, and abruptly ended.

Kokichi frowned. That was even shorter than his own had been.

‘ **_Must be one of her cosplayer friends_ ** ,’ Daisuke supplied. ‘ **_I remember seeing that game character on Tsu’s wall in the dorms_ ** .’

‘Well this is useless,’ Kokichi tapped, slipping out of Korekiyo’s door, and not a moment too soon. The minute Kokichi walked to the central rotunda, pacing, Shuichi stepped out of his dorm, bag on his shoulder.

Right, some people probably carried their motive pad with them, Kokichi realized. He needed a distraction.

A big one.

“Ouma-kun,” Shuichi asked quietly. “Would you… like to… I don’t know… get some tea from the cafeteria? You skipped lunch.”

“Maybe because I never want to see your face, after how you handled yourself in the trial,” Kokichi replied, smiling. “But who knows?”

“You don’t… ah… you shouldn’t have remembered last night,” Shuichi muttered.

“Last night? What, like when those hellbeasts left us the motive pads?”

“Uh, never mind,” Shuichi replied meekly, trying to tug for a hat that wasn’t there.

“And I don’t have your pad… or do I? All I’ll say is the person my pad was intended for has already seen it.”

“I thought we agreed not to share,” Shuichi said, as he followed Kokichi walking briskly out of the dorms.

“I’m the supreme leader of an evil organization, I don’t agree to anything if it’s not in my self-interest,” Kokichi snarked back with a grin. Pulling Shuichi’s leg was kind of fun.

“Evil organization? Really?” Shuichi said, following Kokichi, eyebrow raised.

“Yup. Got all the mafias under my thumb, I mean, without me they’d just have endless turf wars. Fun for five minutes, but you can’t get any beauty sleep with gunshots out your window, y’know? And don’t get me started on politicians. Sooooo easy to blackmail, it’s hardly worth the effort anymore.”

Shuichi rubbed his temples in frustration.

“If you ever want to watch the world burn, lemme know. I could do it in a phone call.” Kokichi smirked. Not that he would, but his hacking skills meant he probably could.

“Don’t you have subordinates looking for you?” Shuichi changed topics fast.

“Beh, they’re probably happier with me outta the picture. I’ve heard them throwing around dick-tator before.” Kokichi grinned. “So now you know alllll about me. That means only one thing.”

“We can have a snack in some peace and quiet?”

“Ya gotta die, Shuichi. Them’s the breaks.”

Shuichi froze. Okay, maybe black humor was a step too far, Kokichi realized.

“Oh come on, I was the one that spilled the beans. So, I’ll let you live… for now.”

“Kokichi… I…!” Shuichi stammered. And yet, he still followed Kokichi into the kitchen, who took out the tea kettle, ran the tap, and began boiling some water.

“What, gonna beg for your life now? Go on. On your knees, like a dog.” Kokichi paused, waving a hand. “Oh, whatever, if you want to live, do what my subordinates do.”

Shuichi gulped as Kokichi turned around, sizing him up and glaring.

“Beat me in a game,” Kokichi said, smugly. “A duel! Loser’s soul is sent to the Shadow Realm.”

Shuichi facepalmed.

It was obvious to Kokichi by this point that Shuichi was only humoring him for information, but whatever. He’d have some fun with it, and his memories, false though they were, told him of many happy times where his crew would play games to break an impasse.

Daisuke told him that Ai liked playing Yu-Gi-Oh and… there was only one deck in his pocket.  **_Crap_ ** . He’d traded out his jacket from earlier when he’d spilled juice on it. He’d even made a decent stall deck, too, with the cards from the warehouse.

Which meant all he had was a regular deck of playing cards. He could work with that. At least for the sake of a party trick.

He quickly shuffled, feeling for the edges he’d marked on his cards, drawing a 7.

“Higher card wins,” he said as he flashed the paper. “Ooooh, right now the middle, chances of winning are only 50%.”

Shuichi frowned, and reached out for the deck. He may have thought it was of his own volition but Kokichi deftly slid the 7 of hearts slightly outwards once the deck was hidden from view by Shuichi’s own fingers.

He took the bait, and flipped it towards them both as the kettle began to screech.

“Monster Reborn, huh? Never expected you to aim for a tie.”

Shuichi just stood there, holding his card, looking even more confused.

“You’re the one that wanted tea,” Kokichi said, shrugging. “Stop gawking and help me so you can see it’s not poisoned.”

* * *

It hadn’t been a complete waste of a day- at least he’d learned a little about Miu and gotten her and Shuichi to open up- if only a hair. He’d revisited the casino again to hijack the keys- though he had no way of knowing if anyone took one over the day. And none of them were missing from his desk drawer- he’d counted.

Housekeeping out of the way. he needed a way to take control of the situation.

There were fourteen people left, and he knew three weren’t going to murder- Miu, K1-b0 and his own self were clean, self-defense issues aside, doubly so if K1-b0 really were the mastermind. But that still left eleven potential suspects. Would Tsumugi’s friend cheering her on be enough to make her blow her stack? And there were still ten more. Everyone needed to see everyone’s. He’d be able to judge reactions, maybe even corner or talk down some with the more… motivational of videos.

Tomorrow, he thought, as he curled up to sleep, tomorrow he’d have a little chat with his new friend Gonta.

* * *

“Get up.”

Kokichi shot up, and almost strangled the bear out of instinct.

“Well? Going to use a key?” Monokuma asked, grinning. “seems like you really want to, look at that drawer full of ‘em.”

“I woke up with no memory, throwing up in the sink, no, I’m not using a key,” Kokichi spat back.

“You sure? The reason why that happened was someone used a key on you. Y’know, the key bearer remembers everything, but the recipient… let’s say some funny things might happen.”

“So, if I don’t use a key…”

“Well, who knows who else has any. I mean, other than me.”

“You wouldn’t. Whatever that place is, I don’t like it,” Kokichi snapped back.

“Well, use a key, have a fun night with a brainwashed classmate, don’t use a key, and you might be picked on yourself. It’s funny either way.”

Kokichi glowered. This didn’t sound anything like the way Daisuke had described from the night before. If the producer lady had any say in Monokuma, she certainly didn’t right now.

“I’m going to go make my rounds,” Monokuma said with a wave. “Answer when I’m back, and no answer means you’re forfeiting your key for the night.”

The door slammed behind the bear.

‘ **_If I use it, I’ll just sit there and be boring until Monokuma gets mad. And it protects another classmate_ ** ,’ Kokichi offered. ‘ **_But someone might… try and force themselves on us. Like what we… almost… did_ ** .’ Kokichi knew how small he was. What if it were Gonta? Tenko? K1-b0? All of them were much stronger or heavier. He’d be squashed like a bug.

‘ **_Not using it is safer_ ** ,’ Daisuke replied. ‘ **_And you’re so brainwashed I can force myself up super easy… if we’re picked and it comes to it. I know what to do now_ ** .’

‘ **_I just… I don’t want you to have to make that choice_ ** …’

The two of them sat in silence, sitting up in the darkness.

“I hate this place,” Kokichi whined aloud. “So. Fucking. Much.”

The door creaked open.

“So?” Monokuma asked. “I could use an answer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, you heard Monokuma.


	35. You Said No

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHOS BACK! Yeah! Bought a house! Was a guest speaker at cons! Made some cool art! And now its NaNoWriMo, so expect not just updates but FREQUENT updates as I attempt to add 50,000 or more words to this by November 31. WOOT WOOT HYPE TRIAN!

“No.”

“No?” Monokuma repeated, as if to be sure. “All those keys and you don’t even wanna use them? Man, is your ranking gonna drop like a stone…” he added, quietly, as if to himself, before grinning like a madman.

“Or is it? Get  **_dressed_ ** .”

* * *

 

Monokuma had an iron grip for a plush, but Kokichi could feel the stiff servos under the plush padding though Daisuke’s right hand. Which sucked even more, because now Daisuke couldn’t even talk to him.

They should have just used a damn~

And with a flash of light at the end of the service tunnels, Daisuke found himself very much alone.

* * *

 

Daisuke had no control over any movement anymore. It wasn’t too much of a difference from when Kokichi was in control, output wise, but this hyper-brainwashed version (if he had a better term he’d be using it) wasn’t a person. It felt more like a robot- who had been given manuals on how to operate a human, but had never actually done it before- was wearing his skin, and he was being dragged along for the ride. His breathing alternated between too slow and too fast, his eyelids weren’t  **_quite_ ** cooperating.

Daisuke would sigh if he could, but he didn’t have the concentration to take over just his breathing. With this version of… whatever… it was going to be all or nothing, like the night before. At least he knew it was fairly easy to push his consciousness upward over this AI facsimile of Kokichi. There was literally no resistance when he did the night before. 

Daisuke assumed it was because this consciousness didn’t possess the will to live Kokichi did.

“Who are you?” Monokuma barked at him.

“Ouma Kokichi,” Daisuke’s mouth drolled.

“Where are we?”

“My castle,” his mouth replied, without missing a beat. 

“Kneel,” Monokuma ordered, and Daisuke’s body complied. The bear procured a pocket flashlight from who-knows-where and quickly flashed it across his eyes.

“Good,” the bear muttered, quietly, before ushering Daisuke’s body down the hall, sliding back a panel to enter the Love Hotel from a secret side entrance, guiding him to a room.

“And don’t forget to smile!” Monokuma added cheerily, before slamming it shut.

XXX

Daisuke’s Love Hotel controlled body found his cloak at the base of the bed, and flung it on with a theatrical flourish Kokichi would have appreciated.

“My queen,” his voice intoned calmly as the door slid open, an incredulous Tojo Kirumi on the other side.

Well, this would be… unusual.

* * *

Kirumi sat prim and proper at the edge of the bed, smoothing her skirt as she looked up pointedly at Kokichi.

That was new.

“My queen,” not-Kokichi repeated, kneeling before her, and shielding his face with the cape as he did so. “I am at your mercy, as I am every blood moon.”

“Are you now?” Kirumi asked, squinting, mildly amused. “Monokuma told me I am to be taking care of  **_you_ ** .”

“Why, never!” not-Kokichi piped. “And certainly not tonight; you must conserve your strength.”

“I’ll assume this has something to do with my –ahem- queenly duties.”

“Have… have you changed your mind, Your Highness? Not that I would ever go against your judgement.”

Kirumi tried very, very hard not to laugh, eyes bright, and a hand blocking her face and smile. Daisuke was allowing the script to run, for now at least. “You would never?” she asked incredulously after her momentary lapse in composure.

“If you did not wish to sire me, I understand. I have never been your best servant.”

‘Sire me?’ Daisuke thought to himself.

Kirumi offered a gentle smile. “Do you wish to be a vampire, Ouma-san?”

Daisuke immediately understood. The blood moon, the queen, siring- it was a cheesy vampire romance novel. Playing out, using his body as a puppet.

“If it means being with you forever, I will take the oath,” his mouth replied without delay. It’s not like the puppet-Kokichi needed to think.

Kirumi motioned to pat the bed next to her. “I will not allow it.”

Cautiously, puppet-Kokichi sat beside her, adjusting his cloak to spread out in a cascade behind him on the garish bed.

“Have I failed you?”

“It… no, it isn’t that,” Kirumi replied, hesitation in her voice. “I just…” she said, starting, then staring towards the door.

She muttered aloud. “Monokuma did say you’d have no recollection of this…”

She inhaled deeply. “I saw something yesterday that troubled me deeply. I am still trying to process what I have to do, and how.”

Daisuke panicked internally. Whose motive video did she get? It wasn’t his, or Miu’s, or Tsumugi’s… well, it could have been Miu’s but it didn’t seem like Miu gave a rat’s ass about her motive video at all.

Daisuke also doubted she received Kaito’s or K1-b0’s, Kirumi didn’t know them before this game and their ‘people on the outside’ would have been too insignificant for her to care about. Shuichi, as a detective, might have some dirt on his, or Ryoma or Himiko as celebrities…

Wouldn’t Kirumi’s backstory have had her working for the rich and wealthy? Would she be panicking like this if all of them were in her own video?

“Ouma-san?”

Daisuke didn’t even realize his body had been conversing with Kirumi without him.

“Well, if it troubles you this much, my queen, I can wait until you’ve dealt with… whatever issue this is. I trust you’ll make the right decision.”

“The… right decision,” she replied softly, looking down. “Ouma-san, do you know of the trolley problem?”

Puppet-Kokichi shook his head.

“Imagine you are a train conductor, and your brakes are failing. You’re in the process of slowing the train down, so the passengers on board will be safe. There is a fork in front of you, with the path you are on containing a herd of cattle, and another path with a single old lady. You won’t be able to slow down in time. Do you stay on the track and hit the herd of cattle- but also likely derailing the train and injuring the passengers, yourself included- or switch and hit the old woman, likely killing her? What if, instead of cattle, it's a class of schoolchildren, but hitting them won’t derail the train?”

Daisuke’s body frowned. “Cows versus old lady… I think I’d take my chances on the cattle. People can survive derailments. But between children and old lady….”

“So you’d take an entire train of people gravely injured over killing a single woman?” Kirumi’s voice wasn’t mocking, or harsh.

“Well, in that case, if I could just purposely derail the train, I’d do that. There’ll be some damage, but nobody outside gets hurt. Not even the stupid cows.”

Kirumi frowned, clasped her hands, and stood up from the bed. “Thank you, Ouma-san. I will be off now.”

Kirumi strode from the room, and slammed the door far harder than necessary.

* * *

 

Daisuke sat there in shock. This… hadn’t been at all what he expected, and, while he wasn’t too happy about temporarily losing Kokichi, the experience wasn’t at all uncomfortable, just… odd. And now, he had someone in particular to keep an eye on tomorrow. Kirumi either was planning something huge, or she was planning to try and stop someone else. Kokichi could at least narrow some suspects down that she’d feel the need to keep an eye on- Ryoma, Shuichi (except Daisuke knew that he wasn't going to attempt murder, so Daisuke would need to keep out for Kirumi trying something preemptive), Himiko… who else? Miu, Kaito, Tsumugi, and K1-b0 probably weren’t on her watch list, nor Kokichi… probably not Gonta, as he was raised in the wild.

Who did that leave? Shinguji was something of a wild card as a scholar, and Maki was being  **_exceptionally_ ** secretive for a daycare worker… Tenko could probably overpower Kirumi with ease, but she didn’t seem smart enough to pull off a cover-up after a murder, Angie was… someone to watch, due to her sheer unpredictability and… and Kaede and Rantaro were dead.

Kaede and Rantaro were-

“Knucklehead!” an irritating voice screeched as the door flung open. “Alright, back to bed with ya!”

Daisuke’s body dutifully sat up.

“Okay, so explain to me what  **_that_ ** was all about, Arukawa,” Monomuka snapped, suddenly.

Daisuke’s body, thankfully, ignored them and walked aside the animatronic. Daisuke knew he wouldn't have been able to.

“What?” Monokuma replied to itself, its tone different- as though it was confused by the question- but the voice the same.

“I have you set this up to see how far we can push this, and all that happens is some philosophy BS. Trains my  **_ass_ ** ,” the bear replied to himself gruffly. Daisuke realized quickly that this wasn’t a conversation he was meant to hear, so he paid even closer attention.

“I’m not going to make every scenario that extreme. You saw what happened to Kokichi last night. I’m not trying to break these kids.”

“I am.”

“Well, you’re  **_an asshole_ ** . And furthermore, you’re not in charge of this, and you know full well what the testing parameters are. I’ve already alerted your boss.”

“My boss is the one who asked you to push them three steps further than they can handle!”

“Your boss doesn’t have any control over my facility, Watanabe, and- I know you’re going to say funding- it’s in my contracts that he doesn’t. Even though we’re getting quite a bit of our pay from you. This is a medical experiment, a medical facility, and you and your people have no say here and if you go off script again I will personally expose this to the media. Yes, even if it shuts down Danganronpa completely. Trolley problem your ass, I’d do what our thrall here would. Crash the damn train.”

A long pause. “Arukawa…  **_is the fucking mic on_ ** ?” Monokuma roared, teeth bared.

“ **_I_ ** don’t see any lights on the mic, do you?” it replied sweetly as it paused, probably so whomever this Watanabe person was could check the Monokuma control console. “And even if it were, all we have is a zombie. Kokichi isn’t even in there right now. It’s just a placeholder consciousness that will be deleted as soon as I bring him back to his room. It’s not like there’s anyone in there to remember anything.”

It was almost like Professor Arukawa was speaking directly to Daisuke.

“Look at your dutiful little puppet, Watanabe,” Monokuma sneered. “Because even if I don’t force a delete, this would only last an hour or two longer. And it took weeks of  **_willing_ ** brainwashing to even  **_get_ ** to this point. I honestly don’t see what use this would be to you; when you forced even the shell of a shell of one of my kids to do something they didn’t want to, you saw how his body reacted last night. Kokichi  **_bolted_ ** . Hardly of use for what you’re looking for. Faster to just train willing spies yeah? And now,  **_if you’ll excuse me_ ** , I have a job to do.”

Monokuma paused, and pulled out the pen light again. “Still completely under,” he- no, Arukawa- muttered, after flashing the light across Daisuke’s body’s eyes. “Let’s… get you to bed.”

Daisuke’s body was dragged back up the hidden elevator to the dorms, to his room, to his bathroom, where Monokuma slammed the track drawer to initiate one of the memory lights. Daisuke’s body shuddered and gripped the sink, first confused, then angry, whipping behind him.

Monokuma was already gone.

* * *

 

Kokichi flopped in bed, showered, pajamas, sighing. Daisuke forced control over his hand, and his body winced, before relaxing and inhaling sharply to let himself to give up the appendage.

‘ **_I… sort of remembered you existed this time. I felt like something was missing when I snapped awake in front of the sink,’_ ** Kokichi tapped. **_‘But… you’re not upset. What the hell happened?_ ** ’

‘ **_Kirumi_ ** ,’ Daisuke replied, tapping out the whole name. ‘ **_And… well, this might take a while_ ** .’

Kokichi closed his eyes and tried to even out his breathing, to pretend he was sleeping, as he took in what Daisuke had witnessed.

‘ **_You think the producer lady knows you’re aware?_ ** ’ Kokichi asked, after Daisuke had finished.

‘ **_I dunno. Could have been a tech or something that left the mics running. There’s absolutely no way it was an accident,_ ** **_someone_ ** **_on the other side is trying to feed us information somehow. Maybe K1-b0 told someone about our arrangement- that's all I can think of._ ** ’

Kokichi drummed his fingers as he tried to rack his brain. ‘ **_Either way, she’s looking out for us, but if that’s the case, why let us kill each other_ ** ?’

Daisuke rubbed a circle on his thigh. He understood what was being asked, but really had no idea of an answer, either. ‘ **_She was trying to see if I could take over. That’s all I’ve got. Maybe she’s doing this, not knowing if I did or didn’t_ ** .’

‘ **_It’s not worth our energy, at least not right now_ ** ,’ Kokichi finally replied. ‘ **_What is worth it is finding out what Kirumi knows. Someone here does have a reason to kill, and we need those videos to find out. We’ve gotta collect them all, and I need a talk with her. Sooner the better_ ** .’

‘ **_No more bodies_ ** ,’ Daisuke replied. ‘ **_Please_ ** .’

‘ **_No more bodies_ ** .’

* * *

 

Kokichi woke up, dressed, went to the casino to lockpick the prize counter and take more keys. There were only so many of them they’d make, right? Especially since they were chipped, not just shaped. They’d be more expensive to make. He rounded to the cafeteria next, before the rest of the students got there.

“Is this done correctly?” he heard from the doorway to the kitchen as he made his way inside. Of course Fate would prevent him from having a private conversation with the maid. K1-b0 was holding a knife, shaking nervously, like a leaf.

A 100-kilo finely made robot was clearly afraid of the blade in his hand.

Kokichi watched as Kirumi narrowed her eyes. “Like a machine has processed it- wait, no, K1-b0-san, please understand that as a compliment!” Kirumi added as it looked like K1-b0 was upset from her answer. “It is considered the mark of a fine chef to process chiffonade cuts so perfectly like that.”

K1-b0 instantly relaxed. “I can’t eat so… I wanted to at least help with making food,” he replied, looking down at his feet, embarrassed.

“Well, next, let’s learn how to separate some eggs,” Kirumi said, sharply, but cheerfully. I need a lot of whites for meringues, and a lot of yolks for some pasteis de nata.”

Kokichi quietly shuffled out, sighing. He’d have to get ahold of Kirumi later. For now, though, it was time to corner Gonta.

* * *

 

“Heeeeeeey friend,” Kokichi jeered at his largest classmate, grinning like the Cheshire cat as he ran down the paving stones to the lower courtyard, where, just as before, Gonta was peering through the grass.

“Nothing,” he muttered sadly. “Not one bug.”

“There’s lots in your lab though, right?” Kokichi asked.

“Not same. Lab bug wonderful- yes!- but bug should be in nature. Why no nature bug make no sense. Want to show friends how good Gonta can be with bug, but ones in cage scare them. Too big, too many leg, they say.”

“Maybe…” Kokichi said, thinking aloud. “Maybe you could introduce them to bugs a little more slowly? Show them I dunno, butterflies or ladybugs first, then slowly start showing them the horned dynastids or something.”

“You know your bug!” Gonta cried with joy. “Gonta so happy!”

“Whoa there, big guy,” Kokichi protested as he was scooped up in a massive hug. “Ease up, please, I’ve only got one spine.”

“Gonta forget his own strength,” Gonta said sheepishly. “Gonta sorry.”

“Eh, don’t worry ‘bout it, big guy,” Kokichi wheezed after Gonta set Kokichi back down on the grass. “But you know, since everyone’s so on edge, maybe we could do a little insect meet and greet, like tonight? Get everyone together, and you can teach us all about bugs!”

Kokichi never saw someone’s eyes light up like Gonta’s did by his suggestion. “Yes! Gonta love idea! Teach everyone about bug and maybe… if all of us in same room, no murder happen. No need to if everyone like everyone, right?”

Kokichi was dumbfounded. “You knew?” he squeaked, uncharacteristically.

“Gonta see Ouma is strange. But he try his hardest to make everyone happy, in weird way. Ouma save Gonta during trial by forcing truth. Ouma mean, but mean well. You gather everyone to try and find something to like together.”

Kokichi shrunk a little. He almost felt bad that he’d also be gathering up the motive videos as well, but he needed to find out what would be so bad to want to kill- or possibly, by Kirumi’s reaction, prevent a killing- that a simple short film would do it.

Almost.

He grinned.

“Wanna go collect everyone up for me?”

“Gonta would love to.”

* * *

 

Shuichi’s video- his uncle. Daisuke politely correcting that it was Ai’s homeroom teacher. Kokichi sighed and shook his head, slipping out of Tsumugi’s room and into the next one in line.

Maki’s room looked positively unused, and no motive video. She probably carried hers with her. He frowned and kept searching up and down through the rooms. Given the conversation from the night before, she might even have Kirumi’s with her, Kokichi mused.

K1-b0’s video was an order gentleman -Professor Iidabashi-  bound up in a machine lab, a small device on his neck smashed to bits. Daisuke confirmed the man was K1-b0’s creator and actually real. For once. It was right there for the taking on Himiko’s bed.

Tenko had Himiko’s in her room, and it was the creepiest so far, just a man tied up and dangling over a shark pool, cutting quickly to a B-horror movie style text of “HIS GREATEST PERFORMANCE- CAN HE ESCAPE?!” which flashed on the screen for just a few moments before going dark. Morbid, but Himiko was far too lazy to commit to a premeditated, organized murder for her master, especially since the video itself didn’t even tell her where to find the man if she did manage to win the game and leave.

Miu had Korekiyo’s, which was oddly of Korekiyo himself talking to the camera, telling him to remember who he was there for, before narrowing his eyes to a film cut short. Unsettling.

Miu’s video rolled an “Under Construction” banner, with Monokuma snidely remarking that Miu had nobody on the outside waiting for her. That was… kind of sad actually, even with the videos being fakes. Into the bag it went with the others, while Gonta was out chasing down the rest of their group. Of course, K1-b0 had hers in his room. He was too nice to not show it to her.

Some of them were definitely more motivational than others, but none really seemed all that frightening other than Korekiyo’s (and that was just… kind of weird), Kokichi realized, as he found Kaito’s pad lying haphazardly on Shuichi’s desk. He’d grab Tsumugi’s from Korekiyo’s room, if it was still there. At least he knew what was on it already.

It wasn’t even like the dorm room locks were hard to pick; he could have a room open in about ten or fifteen seconds, tops. In the end, he had eight videos aside his own; Maki’s, Ryoma’s, and Kirumi’s were nowhere to be found. And none of the three of them had videos in their rooms.

So they likely all had their videos swapped in a circle, which meant two things- who had Kirumi’s video, and whose video did Kirumi have?

Kokichi frowned, leaving the dorms to near darkness outside. At least he narrowed the issue down to one-of-three. And of them all…

Maki was absolutely the most suspicious.

  
  



	36. Of Barking, and Trees

“Tojo-chan.”

“Ouma-san.”

Kokichi stood in the fading light, staring down the maid like it was high noon in a cowboy movie. “I have three words for you.”

“Oh?” Kirumi asked, eyebrow raised. “I don’t have time for this, I promised I would be helping Chabashira-san and Yumeno-san with their magic show for tomorrow, and the gym is off limits after 10PM.”

“Right. Nighttime. No pool access either- boo hoo. Still, got some magic words, if you’re willing to listen.”

“So, Ouma-san? What are these magical three words?”

“ **_Tag, you’re it_ **.” Kokichi said with a grin, slapping Kirumi on the shoulder, hoping to eventually pickpocket her in the confusion.

* * *

 He never got her pad. Three short, and well after the nighttime announcement, Kokichi finally resigned himself to going up to Gonta’s lab to at least show everyone what pads he did find. Maybe one of these really was a bigger deal than he thought. It was worth a shot, at least.

Kokichi flung open the door with a grin, to see the horrified looks of his classmates, only to realize a key fact: not only was Kirumi not present, but Miu, Ryoma, and Maki weren’t either. So much for joint alibi and accountability. Just three people missing, and there was no way to track a murderer, two and no way to prevent a murder, but, barring some strange extenuating circumstances like a premeditated death trap…

Kokichi bit his lower lip and flipped his persona on in full force, opening his bag and dropping a mess of motive pads- even his own- on the floor in front of the group. He’d thank Gonta later, except…

Except fucking K1-b0.

Who yanked on the side of his face and played back an offhand comment about his utter distaste of bugs from earlier. Kokichi didn’t even remember when he said it, or if he had been serious. It wasn’t a lie- Kokichi wasn’t really a fan of things that had more limbs than he did- but he also wasn't the type to go around squishing spiders or ants for the hell of it either.

Of course, any tenuous friendship he’d built with Gonta shattered with K1-b0’s recording playback. The other students took it as an opportunity to flee, while Kokichi took the full force of a swarm insects, seemingly incensed via Gonta’s own rage of betrayal.

Kokichi was too busy dealing with sting of wasp and sling of insult (Gonta didn’t have a foul mouth so his choices were… creative at the very least) to even notice that Shuichi had made off with all the motive pads. Every last one.

Bruised and beaten, not just his body but also his pride, Kokichi eventually limped back to the dorms.

But not before passing Maki’s lab… and curiosity getting the better of Kokichi, he tested the door. It actually budged.

Whatever Maki had been using to bar it from inside was gone. It was well, well past midnight, Kokichi mused, so she probably took a few moments to leave her hidey-hole, use the bathroom, maybe grab packaged food from the warehouse or the school store, since the cafeteria, like the gym and the pool, were off limits after 10 PM on fear of death.

Unless… she was the reason Kirumi was worried.

Either way, Kokichi probably had minutes at best- the food and women’s bathrooms were thankfully a floor down and on the other side of the school, so he quickly slipped inside.

He expected the room to be some kind of lab relating to her talent, that was for certain. So, when he saw not a playroom, or dolls like in Kirumi’s lab, but a goddamn armory, he bit his lower lip to keep his mouth shut.

‘ **_Aaaand… that’s probably why we didn’t see this place beforehand, someone might have vaguely remembered she wasn't the Ultimate Nanny_ ** ,’ Daisuke tapped nervously. ‘ **_Let’s bolt before she finds us_ **.’

‘ **_What the fuck_ **?’ Kokichi replied back as he slipped out as quietly as he entered, running fast away from the second floor.

‘ **_Ultimate Hitman or something_ ** ?’ Daisuke replied. ‘ **_I mean, your actual talent and who you say you are aren’t the same either_ **.’

‘ **_Yeah, if this is what Kirumi saw… maybe it wasn’t a motive video at all. That room might have scared her into doing something_ ** …’

‘ **_Drastic_ **?’

‘ **_Preemptive_ **.’ Kokichi screeched to a halt at the entrance to the school, and flopped down on the steps in the courtyard.

‘ **_Just because her talent is something deadly doesn’t mean she’ll kill. I mean, Ryoma’s actually murdered people by tennis but you’re not worried about him_ **.’ Daisuke countered, exhausted and drowsy.

‘ **_He’s remorseful_ **.’ Kokichi replied forcefully.

‘ **_And Tenko? She’s already sent most of the guys flying. Gonta included. What makes Maki different? Hell, Tenko doesn't even need a weapon, if she wanted to kill someone. She could probably snap us in half in her sleep_ **.’ Daisuke reminded Kokichi.

Kokichi just rubbed a temple with his left hand.

‘ **_We should go to bed. Monokuma’s probably going to drag us up and ask if we want to go bang a classmate_ ** ,’ he finally replied, before creakily standing up in the crisp night air, cracking his back and shuffling to the dorms.

* * *

Strangely… Monokuma didn’t jolt him awake that night, despite an overflowing desk drawer of hotel keys.

That probably should have been the first sign that he’d failed them all.

Again.

* * *

 Kokichi rapped softly on the door, before remembering they were soundproof.

He inhaled sharply, goaded on by Daisuke tapping his side, and then pressed the bell.

“Who there?” demanded the gruff but gentle booming sound from the intercom on the other side.

“An asshole.”

“Give Gonta few minutes. Can’t find glasses.”

“I can wait,” Kokichi replied.

“Gonta sorry for yesterday,” came a hollow reply after a few moments.

Kokichi narrowed his eyes, not that Gonta could see through the door.

“Nishishishi…” Kokichi snickered at the intercom, not even sure if it was still on.

“What funny?” Gonta asked with a loud grunt, before Kokichi vaguely heard the sound of a camera flash through the doorbell speaker. Kokichi only guessed it was his memory light in the bathroom, but there wasn’t any way to confirm.

At least he wasn’t alone on that front, and for some reason, Daisuke had been fairly cagey up until that point as to who Gonta really was other than “try and be nice to him”.

“What so funny?” Gonta repeated, sincerely, as he finally opened the door, fully dressed and glasses crooked on his nose.

“Why do you think I knocked on your door before the morning announcement even started?” Kokichi replied, with a bit of annoyance. It was really hard to tell when Gonta was brilliant and when he was absolutely obtuse. Kokichi assumed it was a difference between observing and interacting. Observing, Gonta was by far more brilliant than anyone here, his own self included. Interacting? The man didn’t have any real sense of social norms.

“To ask for apology for what Gonta did last night. Gonta snapped in anger, and that is very ungentlemanly.”

“I… oof, you dolt, no,” Kokichi hissed. “Everyone snaps sometimes. Even gentlemen can get mad.” Kokichi scuffed the floor with his shoe.

“Even gentleman?”

“I mean, yeah, anger is normal. Though I don’t know of any gentlemen who lash out with a swarm of wasps, yeesh.” Kokichi, with Daisuke’s help, undid his neckerchief to show a wonderful multicolored haze of purple and red lumps from where he’d been stung the night before. “If you’ve got anything that’ll numb it, I’m all ears.”

“You not upset, Ouma-kun?”

“Oh, I’m wickedly upset. So sad,” Kokichi replied, putting on fake tears for a moment before grinning again. “But I can’t be a leader of an evil organization as big as mine if all I do is hold grudges. I mean, evil, right? Everyone I know’s done shit to each other. We just laugh it off and move on.”

Gonta stood in the doorway considering Kokichi’s words for a moment. “Gonta has bite remedy. It smell terrible, but work.”

Kokichi stood in the doorway, waiting for Gonta to bring it to him, before realizing. “Oh, you’re inviting me inside.”

“Yes. Gonta make sure bug didn’t lay eggs on Ouma-kun. Or… in Ouma-kun.”

Kokichi shuddered.

* * *

 “Why Ouma-kun lie? Say he hate bug?”

“I don’t… well I don’t hate bugs, that was hyperbol… yeowch!” Kokichi cried, as he sat on an ottoman Gonta had in his room, trying to keep still while Gonta poked and prodded his neck with tweezers. “Hyperbole. Exaggerating. Saying something way worse than I meant for comedic effect,” Kokichi added.

“Gonta know what hyperbole mean,” Gonta replied, sighing, poking again with the tweezers. “But that mean Ouma-kun at least not like bug.”

“It’s less hate or not like and more… just waaaaaay too many legs. I dunno… the way bugs move freaks me out a little.” Kokichi scrunched his nose.

Gonta was silent for a good five minutes, before roughly smearing the back of Kokichi’s neck with something creamy, cold, and absolutely putrid smelling. The itch disappeared almost immediately.

“Gonta show less surprising bug then. And one at a time. No swarm.”

“I… Gokuhara-chan, why the hell are you so intent on getting people to like bugs?”

“Is passion. Want to share with everyone. Like how Akamatsu-chan wanted to share her music, and Yumeno-san is going to share her magic today. But Ouma-kun’s talent… hard to share.”

“I can teach you how to be a better liar,” Kokichi supplied, with a smirk as he slid his uniform shirt back on, then the neckerchief.

“Gentlemen do not lie.”

“Okay, so if someone has an absolutely atrocious outfit on, and you’re going to a formal ball with them, what do you do if they ask you if they look nice? Do you tell them they look like shit?”

“No- Gonta not do that… oh. What should Gonta say?”

“You tell them, ‘Hey. That looks great, but you think that might be hard to dance in? Let’s go raid your closet and find something that’ll clear the floor, yeah?’. It’s called a **_kind lie_ ** , Gokuhara-chan. Doesn’t hurt people’s feelings. And in this case, telling them exactly how you feel would be a bigger dick move.”

“Ouma-kun… not wrong.”

“Right? Now you… no offense big guy, but you suck at lying. So deflect to something else, like…” Kokichi puffed his chest out and attempted to mimic Gonta’s voice. “Gonta impressed, choosing purple, red, and hot pink together is very bold color choice. Everyone stop to see…” Kokichi faltered, trying to think who the ‘she’ was that Gonta would be dating in this hypothetical scenario. “stop to see Iruma-chan’s choice.”

“You think Gonta go to ball with Iruma-chan?” Gonta asked incredulously.

“Hey, her manners suck as much as mine,” Kokichi replied with a shrug. “But you get the point. I wasn’t even lying there, just deflecting the question to something else. Being 100% truthful 100% of the time gets you nowhere fast.”

Gonta frowned. “Ouma-kun right. Being gentleman also mean being considerate of other people’s feelings. Ouma-kun teach Gonta to be better liar, and Gonta introduce Ouma-kun to bug.”

“Partners, then?” Kokichi asked, eyebrow raised, holding out a hand.

“Gonta think so,” he replied, accepting Kokichi’s handshake.

“Then I’ll just say this: sorry for ruining last night. I should have told you I was also stealing the motive pads for a watch party.”

“Next time, if Ouma-kun has scheme, Ouma-kun tell Gonta whole scheme. Gonta can decide,” Gonta chided.

“I’ve already got like ten ideas, but yeah. I won't withhold details from you next time I rope you into something, fair?”

“Fair.”

“Do you want to know what was on yours?” Kokichi asked.

“No, but Gonta think Ouma-kun will say anyway.”

“Only if you want to hear it. And you had Angie’s.”

“Gonta did, still does.”

Gonta pointed to the pad on his desk.

“Great, the bears put all of them back,” Kokichi muttered. But that meant… they’d been put back to the rooms they were originally dropped off in, not the rooms of the person who should have gotten the motive in the first place.

Which, in turn, meant… only he got his own motive video, of those he knew, and Maki, Kirumi, and Ryoma might have gotten their own or one of the other two. Kirumi had to have gotten Maki’s- there wasn't any other logical explanation for her behavior.

Which meant Maki had gotten Ryoma’s and Ryoma Kirumi’s, or Maki got Kirumi’s and Ryoma got his own, like Kokichi did.

Either way, it didn’t matter which video Maki had gotten; that wouldn’t matter at all. Just that Kirumi found out about her.

Kokichi inhaled sharply. He’d either have to protect Kirumi from Maki, or the other way around. That was the only viable situation. The bears had set this up to deliberately force a murder of one of the women on the other.

Kokichi glowered. That was entrapment; weren’t the bears supposed to not actually interviene?

“Ouma-san, okay?” Gonta asked. Kokichi had almost forgotten he was still in the bigger man’s room.

“I think there might be a murder. If not today, soon,” he replied. “Those motive videos don’t matter. At least most of them don’t.”

“They… no matter?”

“I need to make sure Tojo-chan is safe,” Kokichi finally said, sharply. “I think she’s in danger.”

Gonta looked alarmed. “When Ouma-kun last see Tojo-chan?”

“After 10. I was trying to steal her motive pad. I really wish I did get it, but I suck,” he said gravely.

“Gonta thought Ouma-kun say pad no matter.”

“Most don’t matter. Hers did.”

“Is Tojo-chan in trouble?”

“Yeah, I think she might be. Wanna go check?”

“Tojo-san go set up magic show for morning, yes? We go to show, if Tojo-san there, all is good, yes?”

“I… fine. Let’s go see that show.”

* * *

 Kokichi breathed a giant internal sigh of relief to see Kirumi waiting with everyone else for the gym to open that morning. Maki wasn’t there, which was worrying, but as soon as the show was over Kokichi could run up to her hit-lab and offer to bring her some packaged food or something, if only to hear her voice from the other side of the door.

Between the two of them, if he was being honest with himself, he was far more worried about Kirumi’s safety, anyway.

So, of course, when Himiko’s magic trick went awry…

…and Ryoma’s body mysteriously appearing in the tank at the end of the show…

… and the piranhas… didn’t piranhas actually not eat people because they were too large?....

Kokichi was left nothing less than stunned.

“Gokuhara-chan!” he boomed, half in anger in failing again to save a classmate, half in utter shock that all his planning blew up in his face. “We need to drain that tank fast. Th-throw K1-b0!” Kokichi demanded without really thinking.

Gonta, likely pumped up for their partnership, quickly hefted the 100-kilo robot and hurled him at the glass. The poor robot screamed as he flung through the air, crashing into the reinforced glass and shattered it, draining the tank all over the gym floor and covering everyone’s shoes in a pinkish sludge. Piranha flopped on the laminated wood as Kokichi braved a closer look. All that was left of Ryoma was his clothing, his bones…

And whatever remaining churn of his organs, now staining his shoes.

CHARACTER Name        HOSHI Ryoma

SUBJECT Name              SATO Jun

SUBJECT ID                    53-04

CHARACTER Skill          TENNIS PLAYER

METHOD OF INDUCTION: Memory light C.164-3

REASON FOR STUDY: Observation of forced depression in otherwise neurotypical youth

NOTES: SATO was made aware that he would be tested for forced depression and ideation tendencies prior to start of experiment. SATO’s mental health, physical health, and all other exams came back as a perfectly healthy neurotypical teenager, despite dwarfism. Subject reported no bullying, a positive home life, a small but reliable friend circle, and a love of hobbies, including working at Osaka Aquarium.

Purpose of forcing severely negative personality traits was designed to test to what extent human brain would accept neurodivergent influence, given the already existing difficulties of induction and high rejection rates of memory light.

SATO, knowing and consenting in advance to said traits, only barely accepted them. One of the last to be fully induced (a full seven inductions before signs of personality HOSHI began appearing) along with IRUMA personality (see 53-08), we can conclude that it is difficult to give harsh and alien traits, namely mental illness, in neurotypical subject; even those that are willing for sake of science. Additional tests in this matter will only be performed with full advanced agreement by subject and full extended family, with [REDACTED]

TEST TERMINATED: Death of character (drowning)


	37. Flipside - The Rabbit sends in a Little Bill

_ Some time earlier… _

“If you’re asking my opinion, I think you went way too far with Ryoma’s personality. Korekiyo’s as well,” Kibou said sternly, sitting angled in one of the plush chairs in Professor Arukawa’s office.

“Good, then you have a heart,” Arukawa replied. “ **_Kibou-kun_ ** .”

Kibou blushed a little. “It still feels odd to hear.”

“Name changes take time. I should know.”

“Your name isn't Hiroko, Professor?” Kibou asked curiously.

“Nah, a friend picked it out. My last name too.”

“Pardon my asking, but you’re an orphan?” Kibou asked, frowning. “I assumed you didn’t keep up family photos because of your son.”

“Kibou-kun, I think I’d feel better knowing I was one.”

“You… were abandoned?” Kibou-kun asked nervously.

“No, no, um… Kibou-kun…” the Professor replied shaking her head as she slid some things around her desk before pulling a massive black flashlight looking object out, slamming it down on her desk with force.

Kibou looked. It probably wasn’t snapped down on purpose, by his visual estimation the milk-jug sized device probably weighed at least 30 kilo.

“Let’s just say the early models had way more side effects,” she huffed.

* * *

 

Kibou sat on the hall floor with a pet carrier, its contents irritated and curled up protectively in the farthest corner of the plastic cage.

“Sh-sh-sh, I’ll let you out soon,” Kibou cooed at it. “You’ve had a long day.”

“It and me both,” huffed a voice from around a corner. “Or did you find out its sex yet?”

“She’s female,” Kibou replied, looking up at the source of the sound. “Used to a body yet?” he added.

“Hardly,” the other figure replied, sitting to squat down to Kibou, an exact replica, in matching white button down, slacks, polished black shoes, red tie, and brown vest. If one looked closely, one could see minor improvements in the design of Not-Kibou, but to the casual observer they were identical androids.

“Yeah, well neither have I,” Kibou replied, before looking sternly at his double. “And we aren’t supposed to be out at the same time, last thing the rest of the kids need to see is two of us, they’re going through enough as-is,” he hissed at his twin.

“Then  **_you_ ** shut down and go hang out in the terminal, I’ve been doing janitorial work in the showers all evening,” the other one whined. “They’re all asleep in the dorms already, anyway.”

“Have you spoken with the professor yet?” Kibou asked, eye LEDs narrowing to a design of annoyed slits.

“I keep on forgetting we don’t have a shared memory once we’re partitioned off each other unless we back it up,” the other one replied, mildly embarrassed, after a long awkward pause. “Both of them, yes. Gave Arukawa my report on everyone’s mental health, got a cleaning from the lab.”

Kibou just shook his head, poking gentle fun at the duplicate android. “Ni, if your head weren’t screwed on, you’d leave it behind.”

The other robot just shrugged and grinned. “You’re not wrong. I can walk into a room full of the college kids dressed exactly the same as you and they can tell it’s me in just a sentence. It’s not fair! At least the test babies haven’t noticed. Yet.”

“Well, we aren’t the same person,” Kibou replied, shrugging, poking a finger into the cat carrier, and feeling the occupant bite down, hard. ‘She’s a little fighter. Might finally take care of our mouse problem in the dorms.”

Ni frowned, slumping next to his twin. “Yeah. Iidabashi likes you more anyway. I only get upgrades after he’s tinkered on you.”

“You mean, ‘I’m the lab rat with all the old mish-mash equipment, and you don’t have five holes in your crotch from where Miu-chan drilled around until she found the right spot for a balance sensor’,” Kibou retorted.

“Fair,” Ni replied. “And stop calling me Ni.”

“You’d rather Kay-two-be-oh?” Kibou asked. “Or Ni-b0?” he added jokingly.

“Very funny.”

“If you want to be called something else,” Kibou said, standing up and adjusting his tie, “you have to tell me what you want.”

“Ni’s fine, I guess,” Ni finally replied, seemingly defeated. “It just feels like nii-san, like big brother, or something, and you’re the older one here.”

“Technically,  **_you_ ** are,” Kibou replied, picking up the cat carrier, peeking inside to look at the small, irate Russian Blue curled in its back corner. “Old-me had a hard reboot after your creation date.”

“Heh,” Ni replied. “Yeah, I guess I am older. Speaking of, how’s the drive recovery going? Mori-san told me you were having an episode on the great hall’s floor while I was having some testing done in the lab the other day.”

“Slowly.”

“Yeah, well, seems like past-kinda-you went through a lot. Don’t push it, or you’re going to end up with more existential crises than Ryoma-kun.” Ni laughed. “I’m sorry. Black humor’s the only thing that fits this place, ain’t it.”

“Ain’t isn’t a word,” Kibou chided back.

“Take your prim-n-proper and shove it up your exhaust pipe, big-little-bro.”

“I cannot  **_believe_ ** we come from the same source code,” Koibou replied in mock irritation.

“Right? And have you actually read through Three-bo’s subroutines?” Ni said in a mock gossipy tone. “Dude’s such a square, he makes  **_you_ ** look cool.”

Ni jabbed Kibou in the gut with an elbow, hard enough to knock the wind out of him if he actually breathed. “Sorry,” he added. “I’m still getting used to all these sensors. They might have worked the kinks out on your body before mine, but I still gotta process all this.”

Kibou gently put down the cat carrier and hugged his twin, tightly. Ni expressed surprise for a moment, before dimming his eye-lights and reciprocating.

“Infinite feedback loop,” Ni muttered. “It’s not like getting hugged by a human, you’re so damn stiff.” He gently punched Kibou on the shoulder.

“It's good to have you with me, though. In the flesh… er, so to speak,” Kibou replied, as he pulled himself away.

Ni nodded. “Gotta look out for my duct tape and spit brother. You’re all just a mess of shit code and patched up parts.”

“Go do something to clear your mind, Ni,” Kibou chided. “They gave you a body to split my workload, that also means we each get leisure time to ourselves, too.”

“I have half a mind to ask them to give a few more our partitions bodies to divvy it further,” Ni joked, before turning deadly serious.

“Hey, Kibou-kun,” he added, sharply.

“Mhmm?”

“Ryoma-kun’s got an episode like nobody’s business. Real,  **_real_ ** bad. There’s a regular mental health staffer in there now, probably with restraints. Might move him to the infirmary. I’ll upload my memory to the shared machine for communal access.”

Kibou looked down at the carrier with the irritated little lady inside. “The cat wasn’t just for mice, Ni.”

* * *

 

“Can’t sleep?” Kibou asked Ryoma, trussed up in the infirmary with a nurse looking haggard over her shoulder at her ward. Kibou motioned and the young woman backed off.

“Told you already, no,” Ryoma snapped back.

‘Ni, I could use your memories right now,’ Kibou pinged back to the terminal. A few moments later, Ni’s day flooded Kibou’s memory banks.

“You did,” Kibou replied, in a measured tone, letting the last few hours of Ni’s memory settle in his mind. “I actually wanted your opinion on something, if you don’t mind.”

“Here?” Ryoma asked, mildly amused, looking around the infirmary. “You’re just trying to take my mind off of whatever until they dose me with something, right?”

“Well, us robots aren’t the best at lying, yet,” Kibou replied, with a commiserating shrug. “But yes, here, because it’s a problem I have to take care of now.”

“It’s not like I can do much of anything to help you.”

“Actually, you’re the only expert here. And no, I’m not exaggerating.”

Ryoma raised an eyebrow. “Heh, that’s a new one. And even if you have some sort of incredibly convoluted tailored-to-me tennis related emergency, I swore the sport off.”

Kibou looked affronted. “I never said anything about tennis, hang on, let me bring her in for you.”

Ryoma’s eyes went wide. “Her?” he whispered, throat suddenly closing up and surprised.

Kibou returned to Ryoma’s cot with the pet carrier.

“A… she’s a Russian Blue,” Ryoma said, barely above a whisper. “Hello, little lady, hi!”

“Careful, she bit my finger carrying her here.”

“First time dealing with cats?” Ryoma asked, still quiet with awe, before snapping back to reality. “And you’re just doing this for some brownie points to cheer me up.”

“Actually, our rat traps aren’t working and a rodent chewed clean through my charging cord.  **_Again_ ** . Thankfully, we have a robotics lab full of people that can solder me a new cable, but this is getting frustrating.”

“You got her as a mouser?”

Now Ryoma seemed invested again.

“We did. But there’s literally not a person here who knows anything about feline care. And yeeees,” Kibou added, preempting another remark from the smaller boy, “I  **_can_ ** and  **_have_ ** downloaded information from the internet, and gotten her food, water, and blankets. But she  **_bit_ ** me!”

Kibou waved the finger in question in front of Ryoma’s face for emphasis; Ryoma snatched his hand, faster than Kibou could blink. Metaphorically speaking, since he didn’t have eyelids.

“You… you’re not joking. She left bite marks!” Ryoma exclaimed, suddenly invested. “She’s gotta have it out for you if she did that. You aren’t handling her properly.”

“Do I warm my hands to hold her? Am I too stiff?” Kibou asked, edging closer and waiting for an answer.

Ryoma inhaled sharply. “Let me open her crate and take her out. When did you get her?”

“Izaki-kun drove down to the train station to pick her up from the SPCA earlier this afternoon.”

“She’s stressed,” Ryoma replied. “Come on, let’s give her a bed and let her settle. She has to be exhausted. Cats need to eat something, use the litter box, drink, and settle in. Have you even taken her out of the crate yet?”

“N-no…” Kibou replied sheepishly, before hearing a hard crack. It took him a moment to register that Ryoma had slapped him.

“Idiot.”

Kibou looked down and away at the floor.

“Move, I’ll go set up her area. If the problem’s by your charger, she should be settled in the guy’s dorms.”

“You sure?” Kibou asked, as Ryoma hopped out of the cot, giving a sideways glance to the nurse.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m about as fine as I can be, I guess. Not great, but probably at least feeling better than the poor scared cat you’ve kept in a pet carrier for a few hours. Come on, you screwed up, you’re helping.”

Kibou smiled. “I’m listening, just tell me what to do.”


	38. What Remains of Their Body, Their Pride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REGARDING AN ERROR ON MY PART:
> 
> I'm using the game scripts in English for checking inconsistencies, but I did let something slip though that was an actual mistake and not a deliberate sleight of hand change (eg Kokichi hating bugs, which was addressed).
> 
> According to the trial, Kokichi /did/ get and view all of the motive videos, which even in the game contradicts him being surprised that Kirumi was prime minister post-trial. Let's just call him a liar (eg, my whoopsie, because after reading the game script a few times, he did actually see Ryoma's video without question, and I flubbed that up), and leave it at that.
> 
> Given his reaction to her reveal, I'd say he probably didn't actually get to see everyone's videos, just most of them (Ryoma's included). Sorry all, I'll try to be better about that next time, especially given that I'm really really trying to work within the existing script.

“Wow! Looks like it’s BODY DISCOVERY TIME!” chirped Monokuma, and the remaining garishly colored ‘children’ of his. Quickly, they began disseminating the case files among the students staring in shock, K1-b0 doubly so, drenched, confused, and covered in broken bits of the magic escape tank.

“He-he THREW me!” the robot shrieked. “Everyone saw that, right? This is an outrage! Robophobic! And now I’m soaked-”

“You said you were waterproof,” Kokichi replied with a smile and a dismissive shrug, trying to hide his own shock of what had happened under his mask of his own Cheshire smile.

“-and I’ve got glass stuck in me-”

“You don’t bleed either.”

“-and I’m… I’m… fish guts and Hoshi-kun…” K1-b0 finished dejectedly. Not even Kokichi could think up a harsh and mean counter to the last piece of K1-b0’s thoughts.

That’s all that was left, in so many words. Fish guts and Ryoma, and figuring out where one ended and the other began was near impossible.

* * *

 

“So, good of you to come to the trial, Harukawa-chan,” Kokichi hissed at her.

She just stared blankly ahead.

Kokichi frowned. She obviously hadn’t been at his and Gonta’s little insect night, but neither had Ryoma, Miu, Kirumi, or Kaito.

Which was almost half the remaining students.

Unless there was something he was truly missing, he could scratch both Miu and Kaito off his suspects list. Which left behind the three people whose videos he hadn’t seen.

So why was Ryoma dead?

It literally didn’t make any sense. He had a general idea of how the murder was accomplished- for one, despite the vagaries in the case file, it was clear to him that it wasn’t the piranhas that killed Ryoma. If he’d been in the tank with them for even a minute, they would have eaten him dry.  Piranhas don’t eat people unless they are literally starving to death. So the chunk of glass they discovered at the bottom of the drained tank had been used to separate his body from the live  piranhas until the fishtank emptied into the magic one.

If Ryoma had been alive, he could have gotten out of the fish tank- it had no closed top. At the very least, even if he didn’t swim, he would have flailed- or  **_something_ ** .

Which means that he’d long been dead, and the starving piranhas were used to hide the actual time of the murder, blaming it on Himiko, as it was her show.

That ruled out suicide. Ryoma couldn’t have killed himself and then put himself in the suspended tank. Someone had to throw him in there. Which explained the weird piece of trash floating in the pool.

The only reason he realized the other half of the killer’s trick was due to a very specific fact- Kokichi kept stealing from the prize counter without repercussions.

The Monokuma family were Rules Lawyers.

It wasn’t ‘no stealing property’, it was ‘no  **_breaking’_ ** \- which meant it also wasn’t ‘no entering the pool or gym after 10PM’, but ‘no entering the gym or  **_swimming’_ ** \- as in, using the pool showers or laying on a deck chair was fine.

Or, y’know, as Kokichi realized, seeing deep grooves in the window of Ryoma’s lab’s shower room, using the net as a rope for zip lining over the damn pool to the gym, maybe letting momentum toss Ryoma into the back half of the fish tank which meant… no.

No, that made no sense. But the only person who had that much time and was on his watch list was…

Kirumi?

* * *

 

Kirumi was diverting the trolley away from the one old lady and towards a group of schoolchildren.

It wasn’t that Kokichi thought Maki couldn’t have done it- if she could even use half the equipment in her lab, scaling a rope from Ryoma’s lab to the gym would be a cakewalk, even if she had to either hold Ryoma’s already dead body in a free hand, or sling it around her in some way to use two hands. No, it was the degree to which she was preventing people from seeing her lab. Kokichi would have been caught if he’d stayed even a moment longer in her empty assassin’s room the night before; when he’d gone down the stairs, he’d heard her click of boots and saw a flash of twin-tails as she raced to go camp back in it.

It was impossible for her to convince Ryoma to meet, kill him, take the body to his lab, fashion a zipline or rope bridge, cross with him, and dump him in the tank in five minutes. He didn’t care how good she was, or if she’d built the rope bridge in advance, that was physically impossible for any human. Or even any robot, he added mentally, side eyeing a toweled off but still irate K1-b0 in the elevator down to the trial grounds. Kokichi could still see a few pieces of glass still stuck to him, the poor kid.

Kirumi, Kaito, Ryoma, and Miu were the only ones that were unaccounted for that night for more than an hour’s stretch of time, the bare minimum needed to pull off something this crazy. Ryoma was dead, and the circumstances erased suicide as any kind of possibility. Miu didn’t just lack an alibi,  **_she wouldn’t want to attempt escape from her video_ ** ; while Kaito was likely worried for his grandparents, he’d seen nothing that led him to believe he’d be spooked enough to try something like this.

**_But Kirumi was diverting trolleys._ **

Kokichi bit his lip for being so stubborn that he was right.

Kirumi might not have even  **_seen_ ** Maki’s video at all, or her lab. She clearly was sacrificing them all to save the train- her, and whatever unknown passengers she was carrying.

So who was that important to her?  **_What was on her own video?_ **

* * *

 

The group stood in shock as Kirumi’s façade faded and they all finally understood her motive (Kokichi pleasantly surprised Miu quickly also realized who the culprit was, albeit by… unorthodox methods). And Kokichi, while not completely correct on the events of the night before, had gotten enough of the picture to call it a win. 

But that didn’t matter- Kirumi, the prime minister, they’d be dooming the-

‘ **_Her name is Ririn_ ** .’

Daisuke had used his thumb to tap it out into his palm, before repeating.

‘ **_Her name is Ririn. She’s a dishwasher. She didn’t care she’d die, she just wants to make sure her sick mom has money_ ** .’

Kokichi stopped, mouth shut, and wiped off the tears from hysterics.

‘ **_She’s probably worth more dead than alive_ ** ,’ Daisuke continued, rhythmically. Kokichi had no clues to figure out if he was angry or mad. Daisuke wasn’t leaking any emotions into their shared mind. It was empty, hollow. Just a ghost, tapping orders.

Kokichi felt his jaw clench, and he couldn’t tell whose emotions were taking hold. Like the first trial, he’d long already forced Daisuke’s hand over the voting panel- it was his mess, he needed to take responsibility for it.

Now, though, Kokichi realized that without Daisuke, he wouldn’t be alive at all. And look at where it got him- about to let himself be sacrificed so a woman who wasn’t even anything at all- could walk free while he and the rest would perish.

And all because he’d completely misread her intentions.

What if he had accepted using the key two nights ago? What if he’d been assigned someone else’s plaything?

And someone- it could have been Arukawa, or some orders for K1-b0’s handlers left behind by the only person that had known Kokichi’s and Daisuke’s secret- someone outside was watching out for them, feeding them things.

He didn’t have time to take Kirumi’s demands for everyone’s sacrifice. She had to go, or Kokichi wouldn’t be able to save anyone else.

With pierced eyes and bit lip, Kokichi could only watch in horror as Kirumi climbed barbed thorny wire to attempt to flee, her clothes shredding in front of him as scraps of bloodstained pinafore fluttered down to the remaining twelve teenagers’ feet.

And then the rope broke, and Kirumi fell back through the spider webbing. For a moment, the webs, thick as a sheet, obscured the so-called maid, but the momentum of her body meant they hardly slowed her fall at all, her soon-to-be corpse tearing a woman-sized hole through the likely synthetic silk for dramatic effect.

And down her body went, with a sickening smack onto the concrete tile floor.

* * *

 

“One more thing,” Kokichi added with a smirk.

He knew he was taking a gamble, but he needed one more person to actually clear the air with their real intentions.  **_Especially_ ** after his last miscalculation.

No, not his own. There was a mastermind, an overseer among them, and he needed to be on his guard at least until he could confirm again. K1-b0 topped his list of suspicions, but that didn’t mean he was right. Especially after the last two failures.

“Maki’s been lying to you,” he said, masking his nervousness over what he was about to reveal. “I saw every last video. All of them. Which means I know there was someone else who had a very good motive to kill.”

All eyes were on Kokichi.

“Maki’s no kid spanker. More like a shanker, am I right, Miss Assassin?” Kokichi chirped loudly. It was his best chance to have the air cleared. Maki hadn’t actually killed anyone, not yet at least, but they did all need to know that there was a pretty extensive weapons cache, right there on the second floor of the school, courtesy of the 150cm tall hitman.  **_Hit lady_ ** .

Kokichi didn’t have a moment to process before being forcibly lifted in the air by Maki’s insane grip of iron. At least she wouldn’t try to kill him, he hoped, as he gasped like a fish. That would be one extremely short trial and a very wasted pair of lives.

In what felt like ages, but was only moments, he found himself back on the paving stones, and choking.

If they were to survive, information was their best and only weapon against the sadomasochistic bears. He had to give them everything, every last drop, no matter how much it burned on the way down. He could take their hate, their ire, their isolation. Daisuke curled his fingers in a fist, and Kokichi knew no matter how alone he was, well, he wasn’t.

* * *

 

Kokichi’s bell rung at what he estimated, with no clock or view of the outside, to be around twoish in the morning, half expecting to be dragged back down to the Love Hotel.

It was just K1-b0.

“After that stunt you pulled, don’t expect the other students to respect you. Even if your incredibly rude tactics did help snuff out the truth,” the robot chided, as alert as always.

Kokichi went to slam the door, but K1-b0 merely shoved his foot in the way.

“Slam if you like. I have no pain receptors.”

“Go away, Kee-butthole.”

“Not until I see what happened to your windpipe. I… I don’t know why, but for some reason it bothers me. Show me your neck, now.”

“Go away, Nosferatu,” Kokichi replied, attempting to slam the door again.

K1-b0’s foot made an uncomfortable cracking sound, but did not budge.

Kokichi groaned, deep and guttural. “Aurgh, fucking fine. Have it your way, you dumb hunk of metal!” he cried, throwing the door open and huffing, flailing flat onto the bed.

“I brought what little medical supplies I could find in the warehouse, please just stay still and let me make sure you are  undamaged .”

“Whatever,” Kokichi grumbled, pissed off, as K1-b0 firmly took his shoulder to still the teen.

And then the robot casually, as he peered at the reddening skin around where he’d been strangled, began to tap on Kokichi’s collarbone with his thumb.

‘ **_If the two of you would stop being morons for five minutes, I’ll have you patched up_ ** .’

Kokichi froze, panicked.

‘ **_Does anyone else know about this_ ** ?’ Kokichi tapped, into K1-b0’s elbow.

‘ **_I’ve kept my mouth shut, and will continue to do so, so I suggest you do the same. And no, I’m not the mastermind. I don’t know who is. Just keep following along, and understand this- I’m only remembering anything because something uploaded during my daily backup attempt. I may not even remember come morning, if it’s caught and disabled. Do me a favor, and look out for me?_ ** ’

Kokichi frowned. There were cameras in his room, though, weren’t there? Why hadn’t a memory light flashed on K1-b0 if the bot was going off script?

Did they deliberately upload some older version of him to check on his health?

Why was Danganronpa so concerned with his health… in a killing game?

Maybe he just needed… some sleep.

CHARACTER Name            TOJO Kirumi

SUBJECT Name                   INOUE Ririn

SUBJECT ID                         53-16

CHARACTER Skill               MAID

METHOD OF INDUCTION: Memory light C.154-4

REASON FOR STUDY: Martyr syndrome

NOTES: INOUE was brought forth for study via her mother, who feared her martyr syndrome was getting out of hand. INOUE’s family is not well off, and her mother slightly sickly, though still happy and able to work. However, in subject’s mind, her mother is far to gravely ill and continuously pushes workloads on herself to the point of exhaustion for the sake of others, far beyond a safe point. Memory light 54-4 was designed to isolate and test INOUE’s extreme tendencies in a controlled environment, for future countermeasures and treatment of other children and teens.

TEST TERMINATED: Character voted killer, death by falling during punishment


	39. Flipside: Advice from a Caterpillar

_ Some time earlier _

“Kibou-kun, holy cow, if you could see yourself now,” Ni laughed.

“Well, are you planning on sharing, or just going to laugh at me?” Kibou replied, mock pouting a little.

Ni merely facepalmed, and pinged back to the terminal to transmit his own camera feed to Kibou.

“Oh, whoa, okay, that’s new,” Kibou replied, as he viewed the world simultaneously from his own cameras and Ni’s.

“You okay?”

“Ish,” Kibou replied. “Though yes, you’re correct, this is… um. It’s a lot of paint. Wait, do I have some in my…?” Kibou opened his mouth wide, and took a moment to parse the duplicate feeds.

“There’s acrylic in my mouth!” he whined, reaching to touch the still-wet paint, squirming a little when his olfactory receptors in his fingertips got close.. “And it smells horrible. Somewhere around the vicinity of stale milk. It’s late. I should probably get cleaned up, this smells absolutely wretched.”

“It’s my fault, I’ll help,” Ni offered.

“Next time the Professor asks us to go paint something, I get use of the sprayer,” Kibou said frowning.

“Awwwww…” Ni whined.

“You didn’t even aim right the first time around!” Kibou cried, jabbing his twin in the shoulder. “You were at least a good half meter off target,” he added, as Ni gave Kibou a noogie, spreading the paint through his hair.

“Come on, I just got a new wig too…” Kibou whined, as the two walked back towards the robotics labs.

* * *

Kibou forcefully overrode his servos, locking them up so he wouldn’t squirm as Ni began the irritating task of chipping paint off plastic. Iidabashi sat, bemused, in a corner, watching the two of them work.

Finally, he spoke up. “Have you considered using solvent?” he asked, eyebrow raised, as he spun in his swivel chair like a kid.

Kibou and Ni stared at each other for a moment, before blushing simultaneously.

“You let me just flail around for twenty minutes,” Ni complained, as he hunted around the workshop for the fluid.

“You need to stop relying on us for basic maintenance,” Iidabashi replied. “I’m not always going to be able to help you.”

Ni frowned. “I’m what, a week old?, gimme a break.”

“You’re still learning how to navigate a three-dimensional space, yes, but Kibou-kun should have known…  **_Kibou-kun_ ** ?” Iidabashi’s face scrunched up. “Oh no, not again. That explains a lot.”

Ni looked down at Kibou, sitting perfectly still.

Too still.

He peered, waving an alcohol-soaked hand in front of his twin’s face. “Is that what he looks like when he’s going memory diving?” he asked Iidabashi.

“Yes,” Iidabashi replied. “You get a pass this time, since I was trying to see the two of you working together. Take a seat and I’ll finish this up, and let me know if you need anything as well.”

“Thanks, Pops,” Ni replied. Iidabashi frowned.

“Please don’t call me your father, Ni-bo,” he grumbled, as he put on gloves and began applying solvent to Kibou’s hair and face. “If Kibou-kun doesn’t see me that way, I’d rather none of you did.”

“I’m not him. I know what happened, but you’ve not done anything wrong, and I don’t see you as-”

“Ni-bo, you weren’t a victim, you don’t get to decide how Kibou-kun feels,” Iidabashi replied, cutting him off.

“And his feelings don’t dictate mine,” Ni replied, matter-of-factly. “ **_Dad_ ** .”

Iidabashi snorted, and his voicebox whined in irritating static. “Your little sister Ten- Mirai-chan- doesn’t give me nearly this much backtalk. What’s with you low numbers and your increasingly rude behavior?” he asked, sarcastically.

“Not to your face she doesn’t,” Ni muttered. “Read her logs sometime.”

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” Iidabashi replied, sweetly.

“Yeah, Pops. For bein’ a jerk you’d better give me a full wax. I’m covered in fingerprints from being manhandled by Kirumi-chan.”

“That reminds me, have you two done your rounds for the night?”

“Professor Arukawa had us painting,” Ni replied. “We’re a bit behind schedule.”

“ **_Again_ ** ?” Iidabashi asked, annoyed. “Tell her next time to have one of her techs do it; she’s got a large enough staff as-is. You two aren’t janitors. I heard she had you on shower duty the night before, too. I understand what she’s asking but…”

Iidabashi trailed off. “You’re  **_nurses_ ** , not maids,” he finally added. “Go do your rounds, I’ll send Kibou-kun to do his half if he’s able when he snaps back to reality. And the next time Hiroko asks you to paint or clean or whatever, send me an email. What’s your rotation tonight?”

“I have… Kirumi, Ryoma, Korekiyo, Maki, Kaede, Rantaro, and… Himiko. Kibou-kun has the other eight.”

“Take one more from Kibou-kun if you can. And I’ll wax you when done. If he’s incapacitated… I’ll figure it out if it comes to that.”

“Easy or hard?”

“Hard.”

“Is Shuichi acceptable?”

“I was going to suggest Kokichi-kun, but yes.”

Ni stood up, and rolled his shoulders. “Back soon, keep the bench warm for me.”

“Take your time and do it properly,” Iidabashi chided, frowning. “You know me, I’ll be up when you’re done.”

“Thanks, Pops.”

Iidabashi took a breath, but bit his mechanical tongue. “Just go,” he replied.

* * *

 

Kibou couldn’t move, but he felt his back against a chair, and the pressure of something on his hands. His tactile sensors didn’t seem to be operating, just pressure.

A moment later, he began hearing. Everything. It was too loud and too quiet and distorted all at once, but it quickly equalized.

“Kathy, turn your head if you can hear me, okay?” Mori! At least a familiar voice, because Kibou realized quickly he’d fallen into another corrupt memory. Maybe the visuals weren’t saved on this one, because the audio sure as anything wasn’t playing properly.

“Kathy?” another voice asked, warped and warbled. “I thought we’d agreed on Bonnie One.”

That was… that was Keisuke.

“Ahem,” came an automated… no, not automated.  **_Digital_ ** . Professor Iidabashi’s voice. “Students, She’s one of many parallel AI we are developing off the Katherine-Bonnie open source kit. K1-b0, so we can name more in sequential order. I already have a 2 and 3 in production with minor personality seed code adjustments, so we can see how some minute changes affect their development even with shared memory access.”

“What’s with the zero at the end?” Keisuke asked.

“Phase,” Iidabashi said, before Kibou could feel a stronger pressure on his hand. “Zero units will have free will and the ability to grow, with or without us. If it has a zero serial, it’s not for sale to anyone. Government, corporation, or otherwise. The higher the number at the end, the more restricted I plan to make it. Person to toaster scale. And as all of you know from typing to our friend here, she’s very much not a toaster.”

“If you pointed me towards one, I think I could operate it- um, a toaster, I mean,” Kibou’s body replied. No moving mouth, just a sound from his (her? their?) speaker.

**_Tabi’s voice_ ** .

Kibou would have smiled, if he could. He was reliving the first time they ever turned him-or Tabi-or  **_them both_ ** \- on inside an actual android body.

An eruption of distorted laughter.

“That’s it? Those are your first words?” Keisuke asked, choking on something- probably his own spittle.

“I’ve spoken plenty before, what is new?” not-quite-yet-Tabi asked.

“From a computer terminal,” Mori replied dryly. “You’ve got a mouth now, try using it.”

Ever so slowly, not-yet-Tabi lifted her left hand, rubbing it along her chestplate, going up to her neck, settling it on her face. The movement was jerky, and uneven.

“So I do. It’s still oh so very much to process!” Kibou felt her mouth move, not quite in synch with her words.

He smirked internally. She sounded like a robot Alice, she did.

“K1-b0, do you know what this is?” Iidabashi asked her, as Kibou felt a stronger pressure on their early-draft arm.

“I… I do not know how to describe it.”

“K1-b0, I’m holding your hand.”

Not-yet-Tabi slowly lifted her right arm to her face, pressing down and feeling something solid between her hands, her left on her face, then Iidabashi’s hand on that, with her right making a sandwich of the Professor’s appendage.

“And oh my, now I think I am holding yy-yy-y…”

“Kibou-kun?” Kibou’s cameras came back into focus, and he felt someone- Professor Iidabashi- gently stroking the inside of his palm with a nervous, almost shaking, thumb. “Are you all right?”

Kibou slowly re-engaged his servos, curling his fingers around the Professor’s idling and worried thumb. “I think so. I was thrown into what was probably Tabi’s first memory. The sensory input was incredibly basic, and the file itself was corrupt.”

Iidabashi looked simultaneously relieved and concerned. “Be careful. You might dredge up something… unpleasant. Take this slowly, and at your own pace.”

“Well, I wasn’t trying to just dive in for no good reason,” Kibou replied, almost a little too irritated as he snapped his hand away. “If I were memory diving on purpose I’d do it while charging, or lying down in safety mode!”

“I… you’re right, Kibou-kun,” Iidabashi responded, dejected. “I need to trust you more. I know you’re not the type to just barge into something with no preparation. Do you know what triggers the ones you aren’t doing on purpose?”

“I wish I did,” Kibou said, calming down from his outburst, shoulders sagging a little. “The only pattern I’ve had for the ones that have happened without my express prompting is when I’ve heard a phrase that triggers a memory, I think. My last trigger was a conversation on the uncanny valley.”

“And this?”

“The last thing I remember was Ni mentioning he was a week old, though I was already losing consciousness by that point… wait. I got paint in my mouth. I’m waterproof except ingress from…”

Iidabashi tapped furiously on his chair armrests. “Open.”

Kibou complied, opening his mouth completely wide, and Iidabashi looked inside. “You shorted- not badly- the paint dried and hardened almost like heat shrink. That probably triggered it. Give me a minute, I’ll peel off the dried paint and give you a fresh solder and heat shrink in the back of your throat.”

Without moving his mouth, Kibou whined. “Okay that’s it. If we do ever need to paint again, Ni has lost his spray gun privileges!”

* * *

“Hey, Kibou-kun,” Ni said lightly, laying down on their shared workbench, sometime around three or four in the morning. “Feeling better?”

“It’s not like I have any pain to feel.”

“What are ya, a robot?” Ni asked, laughing, gripping his chest from the strained mental process. “Also, if you want pain receptors, I have to say, they’re actually pretty useful.”

“Wait, you can feel pain?” Kibou asked incredulously.

“Just for a second or two, yeah, then it stops. It's a very good ‘don’t do that thing or you’ll break your arm’. Better than just an alert. Snaps me back to reality long enough to stop twisting all these limbs in ways they’re not meant to go. Izaki-kun says once it’s optimized he’ll offer it to you. Right now I can’t just turn it off without also losing my tactile senses, since the pain alerts work in tandem.”

“Do you smell from your fingers or your nose?” Kibou asked cheekily, poking one of Ni’s fingers.

“Oooh, lemony.”

“Answers that question.”

“I do have way more sensors than you do though, close to double. I can actually feel when someone’s touching my hair.”

“Okay, now that’s not fair.”

“Yeah, well stop whining, you’re getting a whole new body soon.”

“I thought they were just working on some upgrades?”

“In so much as they’re keeping your hard drives and some of your processors. A whole new chassis is technically an upgrade.”

“And they haven't told me because?”

“Surprise, duh, what else. I’m not showing you where they’re keeping it. Heck, I deleted the location from my memory already, so I couldn’t tell you anyway.”

“That’s just insensitive,” Kibou mock pouted.

“Yeah, well you need to go charge. You’ve got both Kirumi-chan and Ryoma-kun tomorrow.”

“I  **_just_ ** finished dealing with Kokichi-kun, he’s being a miserable little snot, mostly thanks to, um, well, check my memory.” Kibou sighed. “I know I signed the Professor’s contract, but this has been a lot more effort than expected.”

“They’re observing us too, y’know.”

“I am aware. It is thanks to that fact they gave you a body. I think they realized the work was too much for me alone. I’m just appreciative that the Professor will give erm… the Professor his final say on her tasks. This is a lot, even for someone who neither sleeps nor tires.”

“ **_Body_ ** , Kibou-kun, only our body doesn’t tire. You still need to rest your mind.” Ni stretched out as much as his metal body would allow on the workbench.

Kibou reached over and mussed Ni’s hair. “What does that feel like?”

“Comforting, I guess. It’s kinda hard to explain. Heck, I’m still sorting a lot of this out.”

“If I touched your face, do you feel it?”

“Yeah, there’s a basic mesh under the plastic faceplate. It’s not as good as the sensors on the metal parts, but it’s more than just a pressure sensor. What, you need another hug?”

Kibou didn’t answer, and just sat on the side edge of the work table. Ni sat up, slung a shirt around his bare and freshly polished chassis, then pulled his brother in for a hug.

“So, who comforts you when you’re done dealing with everyone, huh? Yeah, that’s right.  **_Me_ ** . And then I’ll go whine to Dad for attention.”

“I… thanks, Ni.”

“Go read a book or something, ya idiot.”

* * *

 

“Good morning, Kirumi-chan.” Kibou laced his fingers and rested his chin on them, expression neutral. Kirumi had been unresponsive for almost 24 hours, accepting no food, and refusing to leave bed.

“K1-b0-san, please leave.”

It was the first thing she’d said aloud since she’d holed up like this. He wasn’t going to waste breath correcting her pronunciation, at least not in her current state.

“As your designated butler, no, I have no plans to.”

“That is… unfortunate.” Kirumi turned and faced the wall.

“I know what the problem is,” Kibou continued, fidgeting with his tie. Predictable Kibou, if he’d asked for other clothes they’d probably give him some. But here he was, in yet another waistcoat, button-down shirt, tie and slacks. He actually did almost look butler like.

“Your problem, Kirumi-chan, is that the service staff aren’t taking orders from you.”

Kirumi snorted, unladylike and very un-Kirumi.

Kibou pressed on. “You want to- no, you have to serve other people. It’s an instinct, almost like something programmed into you. No, wait, that was me talking about myself.” Kibou smiled, as Kirumi rolled to turn and face him, still swaddled under a heavy fall futon cover.

“Do you know what happens to robots that don't follow their programming?” he asked, having finally gotten her attention. “Do you want that on your hands? So here, I have a request for you, miss Ultimate Maid. Let me take care of you today. At least until you’re back on your feet lamenting that the kitchen staff can’t properly cut chiffonade.”

“Well…” Kirumi muttered.

“I know, they can’t. So, get up, get dressed, and meet me in the kitchen. I know how to bake, but I could always take pointers on cooking.”

“You…” Kirumi started, but dropped the thought. “Wear an apron, please do not ruin your clothing.”

“As you wish,” Kibou replied with a light wave and a smile, before sending the snippet of memory back to the shared terminal.

A moment later, as he was pulling dry ingredients from the pantry, he received a ping from the terminal.

>HOW DO YOU DO IT SO FAST SHE WAS ONE STEP UP FROM COMATOSE

> AN EXAGGERATION, NI

> SERIOUSLY HOW

> SERIOUSLY, I’M JUST THAT GOOD. :D

>DON’T :D ME DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT SOUNDS LIKE IN MY HEAD

>I DO NOW.

>BTW I’M HELPING MORI-CHAN WITH YOUR NEW FACE, DON’T WORRY I’M PASSWORD PROTECTING THIS MEMORY SO YOU CAN’T ACCESS NYAHAHAHA

>I HATE YOU

>OH, KIIBOU-KUN

>WHAT NOW?

> :D

>>TERMINAL ACCESS TEMPORARILY RESTRICTED<<

Kibou sighed. Just what he needed this morning. Now he couldn’t even ping outbound to the internet for a recipe.

“Is something wrong, K1-b0-san?” Kirumi surprisingly dressed quickly, and was standing pointedly at attention at the head of one of the prep stations.

“They cut off my internet access,” he replied with a groan. “I can’t even ping to my online recipe bookmarks.”

“Is this the start of you failing to fill a request?” Kirumi asked worriedly.

Kibou frowned. He wasn’t a great liar, but he was the Ultimate Robot, damn it, and that meant he’d just need to improve.

“Probably. I mean, I’ve never failed to do my job before.”

“That’s… terrible. So, tell me the terms of your request again, K1-b0-san, maybe both of us can be satisfied at once.”

“Well, I’m not going to lie to you- I’m supposed to keep an eye on you, and make sure you actually eat something.”

“My warden.”

“Your butler.”

“A maid does not require a butler to fill her own needs.”

“Then, a nurse, if we’re being pedantic. A maid, even a perfect maid, doesn’t have those skills, right?”

“Will you cease being insistent once I’ve eaten?”

“I’ll  **_cease being insistent_ ** once the robotics lab gives me another task.” Kibou tapped on the countertop arhythmically, and stared down Kirumi best he could with unblinking blue LED displays.

“So, until then you’re duty bound to me?”

“The gist of it, yes.”

“So even if I eat something, you won’t stop watching me until you have another assignment?”

“That’s how it works.”

Kirumi sighed, flung open the refrigerator door, and found some leftover fried rice.

“Then I’ll eat quickly, and teach you how to cook. Atua knows someone here needs to learn.”

“Sounds like your bunkmate rubbing off on you.”

“Keep talking like that and I will refrain from accepting your request, K1-b0-san.”

“Yes’m.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the new stuff isn't too OOC. I have a whole outline I'm sticking to very strictly but the actual story is being written as I go, and that few month gap made me a bit rusty. >_<
> 
> Oh! Also, if anyone is going to PAX Unplugged in Philadelphia... I'm in the Omegathon! Catch me compete for thousands of dollars on Twitch!
> 
> It's the weekend after Thanksgiving, so hopefully I'll have cracked my 50K before then. Wish me luck!


	40. Feeeeeelings

Kokichi awoke in a cold sweat, immediately grabbing for his neck like he remembered being strangled.

Because he had.

With his and Daisuke’s hands close on his neck, Daisuke snapped out and took Kokichi’s hand in his, running his thumb in slow circles on his palm.

Kokichi smirked. ‘ **_What, trying to cheer me up?_ ** ’ he tapped into Daisuke’s palm.

‘ **_Not just you_ ** ,’ he replied.

The two of them were then met with the loudest, most awkward gurgling noise.

‘ **_We should get breakfast, I don’t think I ate yesterday_ ** ,’ Kokichi noted. ‘ **_I could probably eat a…_ ** ’

Kokichi stopped communicating, and just sat up, blank eyed, staring at the far wall.

‘ **_Kirumi is gone_ ** .’ Kokichi swallowed bile.

‘ **_Yeah, yeah, she is_ ** .’

**_‘I don’t know how to cook. And… I don’t trust anyone else making my food. Not anymore_ ** .’

‘ **_What about me_ ** ?’

‘ **_Well yeah, but what are you going to do with just a hand? Tell me step by step? Last I checked, while you’re talking, you can’t even hold a knife. Unless_ ** …’

Kokichi held Daisuke’s hand in his, thinking.

‘ **_Unless I try something really, really stupid_ ** .’

* * *

 

The moment the morning announcement went off, Kokichi pushed open the doors to the kitchen. He had a good thirty or forty-minute head start on his classmates just waking up, which was good.

He wanted the kitchen to himself for as long as possible.

‘ **_Don’t forget, it's a loaner_ ** ,’ Kokichi tapped into his palm, before crossing his arms and leaning on the kitchen countertop. ‘ **_Everything but my head, because, by your own words, you suck at talking_ ** .’

And with that, Kokichi started to let his whole body go slack.

It hurt, like pins and needles, or like a limb falling asleep, as his muscles spasmed. For a moment, Kokichi wondered if the searing pain would stop, if he’d made a bad decision.

But then the pain reduced, down to a dull throb, and his body shook out his arms and cracked its neck.

‘ **_Don’t expect fine dining_ ** ,’ Daisuke tapped. ‘ **_And if you’re going to keep my head, don’t get distracted. Watch what I’m doing or I can’t see_ ** .’

* * *

 

For the first time Kokichi understood how Daisuke felt, being dragged around the kitchen as his body expertly set a rice cooker and began making tamagoyaki.

He had a quiet few moments to-

**Flick.**

Daisuke flicked his left middle finger on the back of his right hand, hard.

Right. Kokichi was only controlling their head but that meant he needed to pay attention and watch what Daisuke was doing, especially since he was trying to cut cubes of tofu.

And, up until now, Daisuke had just been operating their dominant hand, and yet, Kokichi hadn’t needed to tell him to do anything. It was like, he’d reach for something and his hand would just finish the thought. Which meant that Daisuke was constantly having to pay attention to the fact that he had all his senses and no control, until he needed to do one minute thing for them both, or just for Kokichi.

A prod to go brush their teeth, a nudge to eat something, dammit, a reminder that he was doing okay.

The ghost had guts.

He finished, inhaled, and ran back to the dorms in about twenty minutes, leaving behind a wake of dirty dishes and a crusted rice cooker, for reasons that Kokichi didn’t understand. The rest of the kids were slowly making their way to the dining hall, the fact that no food awaited them far away.

He knew none of them would have taken his cooking if he’d offered it, anyway.

Daisuke splashed water on their face and the mirror faded off. Maybe his makeup was running, from washing his face after breakfast, so, wh-

Because Daisuke reached for the trick drawer, powdered, and slammed it shut.

And suddenly, for a brief moment before he let his hand slacken to give Daisuke an outlet, Kokichi was very much alone.

‘ **_I cook, you clean_ ** ,’ Daisuke commanded.

* * *

 

“Hey, sad sacks,” Kokichi ordered, to ten other faces in the dining hall, upset, and probably starving. When had they last had anything to eat? The day before had been a whirlwind of investigation, trial, and pained sleep.

“What now, Kokichi?”

“I’m taking us up to Murder-chan’s lab. All of us.”

Kaito glared at him. “What, so you can gloat? Mister Right?”

Kokichi took a deep breath, and loosened his kerchief, showing off his bare neck. The ointment K1-b0 had given him the night before had reduced the swelling and pain, but it was pointedly as purple as his hair.

“Any other questions?” he asked sharply, before sliding on his smiling face like a mask.

Kokichi slid the cafeteria door open with a slam on its runner, and was actually surprised to discover the rest of the kids follow him up the stairs without a peep.

* * *

 

Maki’s blood-red door was unlocked, and unbarred, with everything neat and organized. Now, Kokichi finally had a chance to get a proper look at the room without worrying that Maki would come. After the previous night’s trial, she’d holed herself up in the only space she really could without worry- her own dorm room, as it locked.

Not that she knew he could pick the lock if needed.

The armory was metal and deep red walls, like something out of a superhero movie- the vigilante hero, this time, to contrast Kokichi’s own supervillain lair. One far wall was a blinding white, lined with targets, a few things embedded in them.

Arrows. Weird. What kind of assassin uses arrows, nowadays? Kokichi expected poisons for their stealth factor, especially since there was no chem lab in sight, maybe a gun. Unless they were hidden somewhere in the room, it was a strange choice of tools. 

“Look, I don’t care how any of you feel about her,” Kaito finally articulated, snapping Kokichi back to reality. “I’ll be responsible for her. I mean, she did fly off the handle last night, but she hasn’t killed anyone. She’s just locked herself up. Hopefully that stands for somethin’ y’know?”

And with that, he was gone. Kokichi sighed. Kaito was right, bruised neck be damned. She was just acting as rationally as she could, given the circumstances, something Kokichi could respect. He was doing the same.

* * *

 

Commotion in the second-floor hall, from the remaining three cubs handing out new trinkets to explore the school to the remaining ten- Kaito having long run down the hall. Of course, another one of the bears went splat along with Kirumi- Daisuke said there were usually five murders before a finale.

They weren’t just their wardens, but a  **_timer_ ** .

Daisuke’s fingers twitched irritably, and Kokichi discreetly moved his arm to his side, letting Daisuke slip the hand in his pants pocket.

‘ **_Ko, we are fucked_ ** .’

‘ **_Fucked how_ ** ?’

‘ **_Thousand yen says one of these things opens the next floor up_ ** .’

‘ **_Why’s that a problem? You said it was a creepy fake-haunted thing with a big computer room, and Kore’s and Angie’s labs, yeah_ ** ?’

‘ **_Angie’s lab is the only room other than the dorms with a lock. And if it’s like last case where the staff are pushing specific people’s buttons_ ** …’

‘ **_They’re going to try to get us to murder someone… or frame us_ ** .’

* * *

 

“Hello  **_partner_ ** ,” Kokichi cooed, slinging an arm around Shuichi’s waist after he’d forcibly paired himself off with the detective, slightly less meek as he was gaining confidence from the trials and investigations. “Are you ready to exploooore our feelings?”

Shuichi just looked exasperated, and very cautiously wiggled out of Kokichi’s (deliberately loose) grip. He looked a bit like he wanted to bolt away, be with anyone else.

“Look, I’m not going to mince words,” he sighed. “You did a good job in the trials, but you’re just…”

“Incredible?” Kokichi asked, grinning. “Brilliant? Stupendous?”

“Frustrating,” Shuichi muttered under his breath.

“Sorry, couldn’t hear you,” Kokichi replied, shoving his left pinky in an ear in an exaggerated display of cleaning them out, before reaching out with his right arm to throw his little ghostie a bone.

Daisuke understood; he gleefully grabbed Shuichi’s left hand, and off they ran, up the stairs.

* * *

 

“Spooooooopy,” Kokichi rattled in a low tone, wiggling his nose at the reek of incense on the ghostly floor. If he hadn’t accidentally set himself off from coffee and incense when they’d first arrived, this floor sure as hell would have woken up Daisuke. He felt his control over their body weaken a little, but Daisuke didn't take the opportunity to wrest control, quite the opposite. His little ghost merely felt elated, lightly pepping them both up.

**_Weird kid_ ** .

“Let  **_go_ ** , Ouma-san,” Shuichi snapped quietly, taking away his hand, storming towards a door.

“Some people are no fun,” Kokichi whined, dejectedly shoving hands in pockets, as the detective turned a corner.

Kokichi followed, but Shuichi was already gone, likely into the room that was a lab.

‘Kore,’ Daisuke supplied, poking his thigh through the fabric of the pocket.

‘C’mon, you never get to talk to your sweetums, let’s go crash a party,’ Kokichi replied, running into the room with the express purpose of causing a massive scene.

* * *

 

“Shinguji-chan is scaaaary…” Kokichi whined aloud as he and Shuichi left the amazing library that was Korekiyo’s study.

All Kokichi had done was mess with a replica katana in the room, and bam, Korekiyo went from zero to attempted murder in no time flat.

It was all just props, after all. Very good ones, in some cases, but props nonetheless.

Kokichi wondered if that actually extended to the weapons hanging up on the rack in Maki’s lab, too. He didn’t have a chance to take anything down, but they didn’t  **_look_ ** like foam or plastic.

Kokichi kicked around, finding some empty rooms.  **_Worthless_ ** . No tricks, as he could see from a cursory glance. He wandered the floor a bit more, finding Shuichi looking puzzled at a room.

“Looks like a lab,” he thought he heard the taller boy mutter.

Maybe this would be another chance to get closer to the blue-haired kid. For Daisuke’s sake, right? Just Daisuke.

Why did his own heart need to flutter a little too? Or was all of it his alone? This was the absolute worst place and time to allow something stupid to happen. Daisuke had promised Ai to look out for her; Kokichi swore no more deaths. They needed to keep their head on straight if they wanted to do either, or both.

Kokichi bit his lip again. He’d consider talking to Shuichi about… that… when they both escaped.

Not if.

When.

“What can I do ya for, Stick-up-your-ass-chan?”

“Locked. Doesn’t make sense. None of the other labs are, especially ones that should be, like Maki’s.”

“Step aside, my time has come to shine!” Kokichi replied with a smirk and flourish, pulling his picks from God-knew-where.

“You can… pick locks?” Shuichi asked incredulously. “Not exactly Supreme Le-”

The door flung open from the inside, and the aura changed drastically. Gone were the horror blood splatters and oppressive darkness of the halls outside, replaced with a bright, friendly art room positively stuffed with supplies- giant canvas, wax, clay, and what Kokichi could only assume were very expensive paints and tools.

“Ahahahahahaha! Angie has found her lab!” Angie exclaimed, ushering the boys in.

“Why is your lab locked?” Shuichi asked, confused, as he stepped inside, relieved to be in a normal room for a change.

“Angie works best in peace and quiet! This room couldn’t be more perfect! All Angie’s favorite tools and supplies are here, too!”

Shuichi frowned. “It’s like this school… was made specifically for us…”

Kokichi snorted.  **_Damn straight it was_ ** .

* * *

Kokichi was coming back from the warehouse, a case of juiceboxes for his room under arm when Shuichi fled by him, pale as a sheet. At least he wasn’t screaming for help, just running away from… something. And the only things in the direction he was running from was… the back atrium, where the stupid Death Road thing resided, and Miu’s lab.

Shuichi probably just walked in on Miu masturbating to one of her inventions- actually. She owed him a vacuum. He should probably check, just in case there wasn’t another dead body in her lab.

As soon as Shuichi was out of sight, Kokichi put the case down on the grass and trotted over to the garage.

* * *

It didn’t sound like masturbating at all.

It sounded like full on pornographic sex.

Kokichi’s face reddened all the way to the ears.

“K1-b0, I know you’re reeeeeaaaally enjoying this, but you need to be still for me, that’s right…” he heard Miu croon, through the smoked-out glass of the lab windows.

“AAAaAAaAaA…” K1-b0 moaned, way more salaciously than Kokichi ever wanted to hear. He wasn’t going to get that sound out of his head for… probably ever.

“I… K1-b0,” Miu muttered. “Wait, hang up, someone’s at my door.”

Kokichi heard a shuffling of heels on concrete and made an attempt to bolt, but Miu had the doors open with a bang so loud Kokichi nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Oh, no you don’t, you little half-birth,” she screeched. “You don’t get to sit at the door jerking off to this. Get your twink ass in here, it’s time for a threesome.”

Kokichi froze. Oh  **_no_ ** .

“Iruma-san finally convinced me to get a tune-up,” K1-b0 clarified, loudly, his screaming ceased. “I apologize for the noise, she is incredibly thorough but simultaneously tickling me for reasons I do not comprehend.”

Kokichi started cackling.

“Fine,” he said, defeated, as he slunk out of the sharp midday sun and into Miu’s dark neon-lit lab.

“You caused this,” Miu said, sweeping over a naked K1-b0 on her bench, his collar detached on a side table and his armor plates strewn on the floor. His fabric suit was nowhere to be found.

A large dish filled with glass shards sat precariously on the edge of that side table.

“Technically Gokuhara-chan was-”

“Following your orders, asswipe.” Miu brandished a pair of tongs, before passing them to Kokichi. “And according to K1-b0 here, you seem to know what you're doing with him. Why he trusts you of all people is beyond me.”

“I don’t,” K1-b0 squeaked from the workbench. “But I was nervous to have you touch me more. I don’t want to be changed and I was worried you’d start taking me apart.”

“Oh,” Miu said, rounding out her mouth and moving closer- within a centimeter or so- of K1-b0, chest heaving over his exposed intricately clockwork-patterned body plates. “But I promise to put you back together when I’m done. Pretty pleeeeeeeeeeeeease?”

She traced a finger down his neck and to his chestplate, eliciting an inhuman howl.

Finally, she froze her finger, her fingernail pressed into his filigree, and K1-b0 came back to his senses. “Iruma-san, that was entirely inappropriate,” he whined quietly.

She jumped back, nervous, and about to cry. Kokichi stepped in. “Yeah, well, rustbucket, did’ja like it?”

“Th- that’s robophobic and you know it, Ouma-san!” K1-b0 shouted, snapping upright and glaring at Kokichi, gripping the edge of the bench.

“Not the point,  **_did you like it_ ** ?” Kokichi repeated.

“I…” K1-b0 calmed down, his shoulder plates separating a little as he de-escalated. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t leave Iruma-san’s lab like this,” he added, spreading his arms to show off his body under his armor, tarnished and still slightly pink from Ryoma’s and fish guts. “I smell like rotten fish and I’ll get dust inside me without my suit on, which Iruma-san has kindly put in the wash.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Kokichi prodded further, side eyeing a nerve-wracked Miu, sitting, shaking a little on the floor.

“ **_Yes_ ** ,” K1-b0 snapped. “Yes, I like Iruma-san touching me. It feels good. Are you happy now, Kokichi? Iruma-san may be vulgar, but she knows what she’s doing,” he added, flailing to the dish full of shards.

“Y-you do?” Miu asked, tears welling up in her eyes. “I… I’m really doing… doing okay?”

“Yes,” K1-b0 replied with a smile. “You’re a lot more… um… thorough than the Professor is.”

“Thorough…” Miu said with a thousand-yard stare. “K1-b0 calls me thorough…”

“Yeah, so don’t leave him hanging there with blue balls,” Kokichi said with a massive smirk. “Finish him off already.”

K1-b0 turned red, coming to a realization. “Oh… oh, no, has this all been sexual innuendos?”

Kokichi deadpanned. “You’re just realizing this  **_now_ ** ? What about her touching you?”

“I have carbon based tactile sensors in my chest and arms, and she’s been recalibrating them as she’s been doing my maintenance. They’ve desynched thanks to being  **_thrown through impact resistant glass_ ** .” The last few words were said with a bite Kokichi didn’t realize K1-b0 had. That must have been why K1-b0 didn’t ask Kokichi for a cleaning last night, that or he felt despite his own problems, Kokichi’s neck was worse.

“I’m still a little bitter, apologies for the tone,” K1-b0 added, as he resettled on the bench.

“Fine, I owe you. But I’m not ‘re-synching your tactile sensors’, just going to help clean,” Kokichi huffed, as he grabbed a pair of work gloves. “I’m not jerking off a Roomba today, thanks.”

* * *

Kokichi left Miu’s lab, smelling vaguely of lemons and wax, a small sliver of a cut on his left pointer knuckle courtesy of an errant piece of glass he’d brushed against while scouring off the last of the ick coating K1-b0. Miu herself had disassembled K1-b0 to clean out the rest of his insides, at least seven or eight rags coming out black from all the particulate in the school, before shooing him out to put K1-b0 back together and…

Well, the robot was still screeching when he’d fled the garage.

Kokichi felt like, for once, he was starting to actually get on terms with the students. Some of them, at least.

Gonta flagged Kokichi down in the courtyard.

“Ouma-san! Ouma-san! Gonta find more letters on stone! Gonta wants to investigate!”

“You asking me to go with?” Kokichi asked, eyebrow raised.

“Gonta would love company. And maaaaaybe… show Ouma-san a friendly bug?”

Kokichi laughed, genuinely.

“As long as it’s one at a time, big guy. No plagues of locusts or any of that shit.”

Gonta squealed like a small child, linking his massive arm under Kokichi’s and practically dragging him towards his find.

* * *

 

Kokichi, exhausted but relaxed for the first time since he could actually remember, stretched out on clean sheets in a warm bed.

And then a bear. Monophanie this time; Monokuma had been MIA more or less all morning.

There went Kokichi’s mood.

“Another motive video?” he groaned, shoving a pillow over his face.

“Naw, but that’s a nice whiteboard you’ve got,” she said, poking the large board he’d snagged from the warehouse, scribbled with his thoughts on the cases so far.

“You didn’t put K1-b0 in the suspects pile, that’s weird,” she commented, scanning it. “You’ve got dead people- I’m gonna puke- and suspects, and then he’s all off on his own!”

“None of your business,” Kokichi grunted, as he pressed the pillow harder in an effort to shut her out.

“Yeah, well, not here for that, anyway. You’ve got a lot of keys here, wanna use one?”

Kokichi groaned.  **_Again?!_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, you heard her.


End file.
